Conversion?
by MsLanna
Summary: I am not a HP fan. Can that be changed? I don't think so, but that doesn't keep some peole from trying. So first hand experience is supposed to do the trick. Danger! Self-insert. Read at own risk! Rated for language. Currently: Annyoing Snape
1. Chapter 1: Oh, fuck!

Chapter 1: Oh, fuck!

Waking up and being eleven years old again is a pretty amazing experience. But if you remember everything that happened, you also know that you have another adolescence before you. It is sometimes said to be the best age of all, and from a certain, hormone-chocked point of view that might even be true. Since I had counted the ripe number of thirty and something years when I had gone to bed, waking up in a body formed like a plank, and after a search for pubic hair which came up with the amazing number of zero, I was really pissed. And so the first words I spoken in this story were:

"Oh, fuck!" And I meant it. No, really, not only did I wake up in a place completely foreign to me, I was also not myself, not one bit. At least, not one bit that had not aged at least 15 years in the meantime. Fuck, indeed.

I stared at the wooden ceiling wondering where I was and why. Well, at least, I was still a girl. Thank heaven for little favours. I got up staring down a hopelessly old-fashioned floor-length sleeping gown made from linen. My bare feet connected with a rug and my eyes wandered around a small room. It looked like something from the Middle Ages. Oh God, don't let this be The Lord Of The Rings. Nazgul were a dream, but only if they stayed imaginary.

I went over to the mirror and found white porcelain basin and hot water in a jug before it. Not Lord of the Rings, with some luck. I stared at the face in the mirror which I had seen for the last time ages ago. And I had hoped never to see it again. I stuck the tongue out, because at that age, you are allowed to.

In front of the basin lay a letter. It was folded neatly, made of some yellowish paper and sealed with wax. Somebody was going through quite some trouble here. I hoped to pay back some of it in kind. I broke the seal to find a letter in a beautifully flowing script, telling me my worst nightmare had come true. Only in much nicer words:

_Dear Mellanna,_

_We have been made aware of your deep disregard for the Harry Potter books. As a devoted Fanclub, this is something we wish to redeem. There are few fandoms better and more fun than this. And the best way to show you is to let you experience the whole of it yourself._

_We have thus decided to insert you in the story. You may experience the characters first hand and realise your grave misjudgement of them. But since this would not be sufficient to capture your imagination, we have set you up with your own mysterious background that you must reveal on your own._

_We are sure that you will enjoy this favour. Help has been sent to make you feel at home. Do not worry._

_Yours_

_- Devoted Fans_

"Oh, fuck!" Who did they think they were? And who did they think I was? And what kind of idiot would ever consider going through adolescence, no matter under what circumstances a second time would be _fun_?

I looked around and found an open suitcase. Clothes were poking out of it, and when I dared to look closer, they were the kind I knew; jeans, T-shirt, pullovers. Thank heaven. I put something on and wondered about the size. Darn, I had been slim. Or was that also a favour of "Yours Sincerely"?

Still grumbling I opened the door which led to a staircase leading into a - pub. And I was too young to get a drink. Well, fuck. I felt like I needed one, and strong. I became even more pissed when I calculated in my head how long I would have to wait for my next legal drink. The things you take for granted. Oh, bother.

The grey walls were covered with pictures and newspapers hung from it at some place. Fire from what night have been oil lamps lightened the room and a few patrons were scattered about. Behind the counter stood a man with a nose almost as knobby as that of Gerard Depardieu.

If memory served me right, he was the inn keeper. Though, truth be told his standing behind the bar alone would have led me to that conclusion. I didn't remember him from neither the books nor the films.

"Ah, Vianne, you are up," he greeted.

I looked around, but right then, I was the only female being approaching him. Vianne? What kind of a name was that? Not my kind for sure. I hoped there was a chance to talk with the editor and change the name before anybody saw me with it and died laughing. "Um hi," I replied.

"Have a seat, I'll get you breakfast." He pointed at one of the many tables.

Dutifully I sat down. There was not much I could do anyway. If those maniacs had inserted me at the very beginning, there was at least hope to get adult before Harry ever got to Hogwarts. Which was the somewhat alluring charm along the lines that there was an Alan Rickmann look-alike on the loose. Which would be any good to me in - oh about seven years. I hated this already.

Suddenly a very decent British breakfast appeared before me accompanied by a huge mug of black tea. I grinned from the plate up to the barkeeper and back to the plate again. Okay, _this_ I could get used to. The smell was mouth-watering and I could see the calories with my eyes. Happily, I began to annihilate the eggs, sausages and fried tomatoes. The tea was leaving claw-marks down my throat and my suddenly very young body was not used to the caffeine in it. This had potential.

I wiped the plate clean with a piece of bread and considered my next steps. If my memory served me right, I would be needing silly clothing and magic stuff before I went to Hogwarts. And, since my back story was made up by a bunch of mad fangirls, there was probably an amount of mysteriously inherited money to be found at the bank.

And a shopping list would hopefully be in my suitcase. I was about to get up when somebody called my name. It took me some time to figure that out, because I still didn't connect 'Vianne' with anything that concerned me. If I ever got my hands on the person that had chosen this name for me...! Oh well, I turned to face my visitor. Right now, I had very different problems.

A young man stormed towards me. "What are you still doing here, Vianne. We have a very tight schedule, I don't have all day!"

"Um, hi," I got out. He reminded me of a very slick version of a young Keanu Reaves. I had never liked him and his clone's actions didn't improve on that.

"Just look at you," he went on. "Don't you have anything decent to wear?"

I looked down at the clothes. He was right, they were not even black. "Sorry. I'll just get my list and we can be off ...?"

He didn't get the question, just shooed me away. "Hurry, I have to be back at the ministry in three hours."

Whatever. I hurried up to my room again, found the list half buried in my suitcase, and took a second to make sure I didn't have anything bought already. No such luck. Instead I did find a purse that was conveniently filled with money already.

"Okay, ready to go," I shouted as I jumped down the last stairs with a huge leap. Being a child again did have advantages.

The young man glared at me, but I kept an innocent grin. If I was still able to do anything innocently. This body might be as innocent as fresh snow, but my head did remember a lot of things. "What's your name anyway?" I asked.

"Simon."

Well, that explained everything. "I am Vianne-"

"Snyder, yes I know," he interrupted me. "I am aware that all this is very new for you, but we don't have time. You can spend the rest of the day with small talk. Follow me."

He really didn't improve my view on Kenau Reaves any. I followed him into the yard that was empty except for a few trash cans. I looked at the wall expectantly. If I remembered correctly, it was about to open up in a most picturesque way. Obligingly, Simon tapped his wand against the correct brick three times. The opening up did look the way I remembered from the movie, and Diagon Alley was full of people running in all directions. I almost fell over a stack of kettles, trying to keep up with Simon.

"Clothes first," he ordered. "You can then collect them finished after we have everything else. The list?"

I put it into his outstretched hand as he shoved me into a shop that smelled of mothballs.

"Hello, my dear," a squat woman greeted me, smiling. "Hogwarts?"

"Yes, ma'am," I nodded. You didn't fool around with people who ended up wielding point bits in your very vicinity.

"I have everything right here," she gestured into a back room that looked even more stuffy than the front. I had to get upon a small pedestal and a set of robes flew over my head. At least, it was black.

"Three sets," I informed the witch. "And if I could get a leaf-shaped fastening for the winter cloak?"

"Of course, my dear," she replied absent-minded. "Raise your arms."

I did so and the needles began their work all on their own. Very convenient. If I could sew like that, I might get my own costumes done after all. And there were kettles not far away that would make good Mando armour plates. By the time I had wondered what kind of spell you might need to turn kettles into armour, the stitching stopped.

"There you go, little Miss," the witch handed me a strip of paper. "You can collect the finished lot later."

"Thank you, Ma'am," I replied dutifully. Then I turned to Simon. "What next?"

"Your books," he returned my list. "I will get the other things in the meantime; I really don't have time for this."

"As you wish, Simon," I grinned up at him. Nothing new there, I had never grown very tall. "We can meet at the pet shop then, I want an animal." Were children allowed to bat their eyes at annoying adults? Did I care? Nope.

Simon huffed and was gone. Seemed the effect of eye batting from a child was very different from what I was used to as an adult. But, I was about to go shopping for books. There's nothing like buying books. I _love_ books. Okay, those were all study books on my list, but maybe I could find something else to read. Though - what year _did_ we have? And how far from the publishing of 'Choices' in 2011 did that put me? Oh, fuck. The books I would have to wait for. I could only hope there were some decent wizard-authors around.

The book store was amazing. Not only were there rows of books in shelves, but they were also stacked everywhere, holing up at impossible angles. I followed the stacks with my eyes, wondering what would happen if I pulled out one of the volumes. Maybe nothing, because if there was no spell on the construction, I was a toad.

There was another nice surprise in the book shop and that consisted of the top two sneers of the wizarding world. I grinned already as I stepped a bit too closely beside Draco, grabbing a volume of 'Magical Drafts and Potions' out of the shelf before him. "Hello there."

He turned and showed that great sneer of his. He really should have been too young for that, but when his father came up behind him, I could see where he got it from. And I was only 11 years old, and Lucius Malfoy was - well a lot older, not to mention married with kids. Oh, fuck.

"Hello, Sir." I indicated a bow. "Pleased to meet you." Hell, I was, even if I was stuck in the body of a frigging eleven year old.

"And you would be?" Condescension was a fine thing if it came from Lucius Malfoy, he did it so well. His tone also indicated that his cat (provided he had one) had dragged in more desirable things than me. (Note to self: even at eleven years old, never put 'Lucius Malfoy' and 'desirable' in one sentence.)

"Vianne Snyder, Sir," I replied and wondered for a fleeting moment what would happen if I told him my real name. "I am a new student at Hogwarts." I shoved the captured book into his face. "See, I am getting my books!"

Yes, I was grinning like a mad woman at that moment. Though, mad child was probably more like it. But what did I have to loose? If I was to be in Harry's year, even my Alan Rickmann look-alike was ages too old for any kind of relationship. Though, from this point of view, the whole sex-with-minors angle suddenly made sense. Kinda.

"I see." He pushed the book away with the top of his cane.

I refrained from jumping at him and covering him with slobber, or just jumping up and down with the excitement of annoying him. Instead, I focussed on my list again. "Do you know where I can find- The Dark Force?" No, that was wrong; I don't think the Katana fleet had anything to do with this. "Oh, 'The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection?" I beamed at him brightly. And I _so_ had him annoyed. What a sight, almost worth dying for.

He didn't bother to answer and just pointed his cane towards his left.

"Thank you, Sir." I indicated another bow and ran off. Then I caught myself and looked back. "See you in school, Draco." I didn't give in to the temptation to wave that was a bit over the top. Too bad. But the look on his face was priceless nevertheless. Maybe, if I could keep on annoying those two, the time here would not be so bad.

I hurried to get the rest of my books and lugged my parcel past them, still grinning like a maniac. They made a big deal out of _Ignoring Me_, which was not quite the same as simply ignoring me. This promised to be all kinds of fun.

The next stop was the pet shop. Personally, I wondered if it was such a good idea to keep rats, cats and owls in one place, but I was not an expert. A middle aged witch was busy feeding the animals when I entered. She looked up and smiled.

I nodded and went to look at the cages. I am not sure I knew all the animals in them, in some case I was pretty sure I didn't want to either. The amount of ear, noses and teeth an animal should have on average was a very set one in my mind.

"Can I help you?" the witch asked.

"I want a rat, a black one," I replied. "And preferably one that grows huge and vicious."

The woman seemed taken by surprise. "We do not sell vicious animals, they are supposed to-"

"Oh, well," I interrupted her. "In that case, I'll just take a black rat."

Visibly relieved, the clerk led me to a cage with young rats. "Which one would you like?"

I pointed to a black animal that was about to bite one of it's siblings into the tail.

The witch grabbed the rat and put it into a small cage. "What will you call her?" she asked amiably while she wrapped up and went back to the till.

"Bumblebee," I said.

"Oh?" she seemed surprised. "And why?"

"Because it can't transform into a VW Beetle." To my satisfaction this answer seemed to irritate her. I gave her the money and turned to leave. Just end up facing an annoyed Simon. I wondered if there he knew any other mood. Judging from his glare, not.

"You cannot have a rat," Simon told me.

"Why not?"

"You are a first year, you may bring," he shoved the list under my nose, "a cat, a toad or an owl."

I grabbed the list from his hand and studied it. Damned right, there it was. No rat. How did Ron get to bring one then? And when did he start? "Okay, I'll take an owl then. Black -"

"But you already bought a rat," the saleswoman spoke up.

"Oh, right, that." Well, couldn't be helped now, you it? I looked hopefully at Simon.

"You'll find a way to dispose of it," he ordered. "And hurry up with that owl, you will need a wand, too."

I turned back to witch. "One big black owl, please. With cage and all."

She gave me a stern look but went over to the owls.

"Giant eagle owls are out of question, I guess?" I asked Simon.

Simon's answer was a huff. I took it to mean yes. Too bad, though I didn't even know if those came in black as well. But if not there was surely a spell for that. I paid for the owl, which didn't even bother to blink, and the witch didn't bother to ask me what I'd name it this time. Her bad luck, because I didn't have a clue. Maybe I'd juts call it Uhu.

"Off to Ollivanders," Simon shooed me out. "I hope you have an idea what kind of wand would fit you?"

"A black one," I sulked. Though, I would probably feel better if I found a way to accidentally poke Simon in the eye with whatever I got handed. I replayed possible scenes before my inner eye, when Simon stopped me in my tracks.

"You don not plan to take all this," he indicated my acquisitions so far, "into Ollivanders!"

I looked down and shrugged. "I can't leave it standing around, can I?"

"Impossible!" Simon pointed his wand at me. "You act as if there was no magic."

What could I say? As far as my reality was concerned there _was_ no magic. But how did you tell that to the figment of somebody's imagination? "I am just not used to magic," I said simply. "It didn't exist in my world."

"More's the pity. Whatever those muggles thought when they kidnapped you. Drop that." He pointed at my parcels.

Obediently I put everything down. "What do you mean, kidnapped?" That was the worst way to start a mysterious background. I'd end up being Harry Potter's lost sister. Or whatever it was that fangirls dreamt of. I wished I had asked my best friend about it one day, she had a good grasp of the fandom. And I might have known what was ahead of me.

"Oh, you don't think any parents would give their child, a witch, to muggles for raising?" He pointed and murmured and my parcels flew up and away. "Nobody, of course. So the only way those people could have gotten their hands on you, it was illegal. Though muggles do have a word for it, I think." He considered for a moment. "Adoption that was it."

I stared after my parcels and hoped they'd find the way back to the Leaky Cauldron. I was not sure I would. "Adoption?" I said surprised. "But that is –"

"I know, I know, atrocity made legal. In you go." He almost threw me through the door.

The front of the shop was very orderly; shelves lined the walls, stacked from bottom to top with small boxes. Beside a stair leading up to even more wands a small counter stood and behind that counter - the evil twin of a very old Bilbo Baggins. His eyes were of such a light blue, they seemed no be white except for the pupils and there was a degree of madness in his eyes that was unsettling. Not to mention his bangs which went down all the way to the floor.

He wore a dark red-brown coat that looked as dusty as the rest of the shop. I felt like sneezing. Then he looked me over carefully, then went and took one of the gazillion boxes before I could say a word. Probably reading mind, or just assuming that anybody coming into his shop wanted a wand.

"Ebony and heartstring of a dragon," he explained as he lifted a beautiful black wand out.

I took and waved it about. Nothing happened. What a disappointment, it would have fit my normal wardrobe so well. If you ignored that there was no way to get at my usual clothes, that is.

"Well, well, now," he muttered. "What a surprise. Try this one. Beech with phoenix feather."

He handed me a much stubbier though lighter wand. This time I was relieved when nothing happened as I waved it around. It was enough that I would end up short, white and stubby, no need to emphasise the fact with an according wand.

It went on like that for quite a while; long and short wands, light and dark ones, all kinds of woods and magical creatures in different combinations. Mr. Ollivanders seemed almost distressed as nothing worked. Maybe my fangirly commission had forgotten to give me magic powers. Now that would be a hoot.

"Here," he brought me another one, not even telling what it was made off. He had stopped quite a while ago. In his stead, Simon had started squirming. I wondered what kind of appointment he had that was so important; probably a witchy woman.

I waved the staff and to our surprise it worked. A burst of sparkling stars came from it's tip, showering the shop in red and yellow light. It was really pretty. I hadn't felt anything especially magical, though. Maybe working magic didn't feel at all? That would be a disappointment.

"Ash and unicorn," he said, sounding surprised.

I shrugged, not being fond of either. Except if there were frigging huge black unicorns around in this universe. At least it was not pink. I paid and we left the shop. Simon dragged me through the street with no time to look left or right. Strange instruments, animals and people flashed by, unknown scents and sounds. It would all have to wait.

Simon didn't even wait for the doorway to build itself completely before pushing me through. "The train leaves tomorrow at eleven from platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station. Don't be late." The wall already closed again.

Now that was a hasty goodbye. I walked back into the pub which was full of people by now. Negotiating my way through the witches and wizards I wondered if there were more places like this around. Did wizards have discos? And if they did, what kind of music did they listen to? Most likely not mind kind, which was also due to the fact that most bands I really loved were far from founded. Project Pitchfork was probably around already; if only their early stuff hadn't been so horrible.

I opened the door to my room and found all my purchases plus the things Simon had gotten neatly stacked before my bed. I began to sort through them and realised that I would need quite some skill to get it all into my suitcase. As it turned out, I would have to leave everything muggle behind. A sad outlook, though nothing of it was really mine. I looked at the stack of clothes; no it surely was _not_.

It would be blouses, ties and robes for the coming years now anyway. I wondered if witches ever wore short skirts and high heels at all. Finally I had everything inside the trunk, it even closed. Sitting down on my bed I wondered what to do next. There was half a day waiting ahead and I had no idea what to do. If I had thought of it, I might have started reading those books. But now they lay at the very bottom of a complicatedly packed suitcase.

Standing up, I began to pace the room, not quite wiling to go downstairs. The place was crammed with people I didn't now, a situation I hadn't like when being over thirty either. I stopped before the mirror and stared at my incredibly young self.

"If I thought you'd remember," I pointed at my reflection, "I'd tell you some important things now." I tilted my head slightly, thinking of all the good advice I would have needed. But chances were that I was back at over thirty when this ended.

My young self looked back at me wistfully, probably having the same thoughts. There was no going back; there was only now. All you could do was making the best of it. Nobody would expect a girl of my assumed age to be happy in a crowd of strangers. Time to go down then, and acquire some long overdue social skills.

There was one more thing I had to do though; I intended to free Bumblebee. It was sad, I could not keep him; he was cuddly, cute and tried to gnaw through my wand. He even let me scratch him between the ears and only bit me when I tried to tickle his belly. I didn't like the idea of returning him into the shop and the backyard had looked like a nice place for a rat to live in.

The pub was still full of people, some of them smoking huge pipes. After the lawful smoking ban came into effect in Germany I had not seen so much smoke inside a building. I coughed, passing an old wizard, who comfortably rested his feet on a chair, reading a paper from behind which small puffs of smoke rose. A mix of languages reached my ears as I walked through the room. I was grateful for the cool and clean air in the yard.

Putting the cage down, I opened the door and picked Bee up a last time. "You take good care, hear me?" His nose twitched excitedly. "Don't get eaten by owl, not even Uhu and if you're still around next year, I'll come and collect you, okay?" He bit me in the nose, which I took for agreement.

I set him down and watched as he scuttled away. Just before vanishing behind the trash cans he turned around though, sniffing the air. So much for the first rat I owned. I placed the empty cage in a way that said 'take me along, I'm for free' and returned inside. The smoke still hung thick in the pub. Candles and oil lamps did nothing to improve on the quality of the air either. Neither did the crowds of people. I had nothing against people in general, okay, now I had a wand, but as long as I could not use it that didn't count. People were fine, as long as they were where I was not. Right now, this was not the case.

I fought my way to the counter. I could even look over it, barely. Almost resting my nose on the wooden surface (you really wouldn't want to do that, it was sticky) I tried to catch the attention of the barkeeper. For obvious reasons that was difficult.

"Do you need help, dear?" An elderly witch looked down at me.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "I want to order tea."

She glanced around as if looking for something. "Are you not a bit young to be here on your own?" She finally asked.

"I am going to Hogwarts tomorrow," I replied as if that explained everything.

"Oh, your parents must be proud of you," she smiled and tapped her wand on the counter. The barkeeper appeared almost immediately. Pointing at me, she ordered tea plus biscuits I never mentioned but didn't mind.

I tried not to think of what my parents would say if they would see me here now. Probably not much, I had always been the odd and geeky one. Of course, being eleven again might upset them a bit. How would anybody explain that to the authorities? They wouldn't believe it, even when they saw it. And considering that I already had my A-levels and an MA in English it would be difficult to get me back into the public school system. Hogwarts might be a welcome alternative, really.

"Here, dear," the witch handed me a cup. "You are so silent."

"Oh," I tried to blush with moderate success. "I don't know who my real parents are. I was adopted." Sucking my lower lip under my teeth I looked into the cup, hoping to project sad embarrassment.

"Poor dear! What about your adopted parents?" She wanted to know. "Are they not proud?"

I had no answer for that. I didn't even know how my family was set up supposed to look like or if they even liked me. There should have been a letter detailing all those things, I decided. Right now, there was only one option: lie. "They don't know," I whispered. "They think I am going to a school for gifted children."

There was no reply from the witch who instead helped herself to a biscuit. That gave me a moment to come up with reasonable reasons for the bullshit I had just made up. Flyby back stories where a speciality of mine, but so far I never had to remember them; I wrote them down.

That reminded me that I might be in need of a new hobby. Fanfic writing was fun, but in a fandom that didn't care much for computers and the internet, there was no chance to access my usual haunts – if they existed already; which they didn't. A though struck me: this was the early nineties. On the on hand it meant that only HotE had been published so far, but on the other hand it gave me some years to prevent that train wreck that was the PT.

I stared at the cup, my mouth open. Could I change the way of things? If only here? It might be an experiment worth trying; messing up the plans for the PT, forcing Lucas to take a different approach and story. My head swam with the possibilities. The Prequels. I could wipe them out. All of them. Or just change them and have pretty Tem-clones fight pretty – uh Depp-clones for example. Owen would be Ben's brother again, and if anybody got the idea of NJO, a hit of the wand should see to the right amount of amnesia.

"Are you alright?"

I didn't realise somebody was speaking to me at first; I was too deep in thought. Only after shaking off the idea to turn the whole SW fandom into my personal playground, I noticed, that the witch looked rather concerned. "Here, have a biscuit. I didn't want to disturb you about your family."

"Oh, it's okay," I said, taking the biscuit. "They are not bad people, just – difficult. If they knew I could use magic, they'd want me to do a lot of things I don't think I am allowed to do. Conjuring up riches, resurrecting my brother, magical detox, a house, a couple of cars, a yacht…" I trailed off. Then I looked up at her. "Would I be allowed to do a detox on them if I learnt how to?"

The witch suddenly ruffled my hair affectionately. It was the first time ever that happened to me; it's the kind of thing that only happens in books. "I am sure the Ministry will find a way to achieve it, dear –?"

"Vianne," I supplied dutifully.

"Vianne," she replied. "And if they don't you can come to me and aunt Marietta will pull some strings."

Aunt Marietta? Compulsive adoption among wizards? I eyed her carefully, but didn't see any Mando armour peeking through her robes. If I was so pitiful to get spontaneously adopted by elderly witches, I must be looking really bad. There was no mirror around to check, though. "Thank you, Marietta," I said. "That is very nice of you."

"Nothing to – oh!" She jumped up with a sudden. "Here I am chatting away the time, when I need to hurry." She pushed away from the counter. Just before she was swallowed by the crowds she thrust a card at me. "You can always send me an owl there."

I stared at the place where she had vanished, then at the card in my hand. 'Marietta Mayfair, Divinations and Funerals' it said. I wondered if that was impending crossover or if somebody had just outsourced an inconvenient witch into this fandom. Taking my remaining biscuits and tea, I went to the newspapers. Grabbing one, I decided to get informed about this place. Where was a wiki when you really needed it?

The newspaper was like a book of fairy tales. Best were the moving photographs, I loved them. The people waved at me, smiled or scoffed, depending on whether the article about them was nice or negative. There were dragon warnings, beast sightings, the Quidditch results and with them pictures of teams playing. On another page was a discussion about new-found spells, a product recall for a potion gone wrong and a crossword with moving squares.

"Are you not a bit young to read the paper?" a deep voice asked. Was that the new pick-up line for minors?

"No," I replied looking up form the discussion of the advantages and drawbacks of the most popular dusting spells. "If I was barely six, _then_ I would be too young to read the paper."

A middle aged wizard looked at me disapprovingly over the rims of his glasses. "Do your parents know you are here?"

Slowly, I folded the paper. "No. And I don't think they'd believe you, if you told them either." I got up. "And by the way, there are friendlier ways to ask for a paper." I dropped it before him as I left. Maybe socialising with adults when not being one any more was not such a good idea after all. I detected a deplorable lack of seriousness towards me.

I sat in my room missing the internet dearly. Admittedly, it was in a sad state at the moment and nothing like what I remembered, but I was so used to it. Post some, mail some, chat some; if somebody had been gracious enough to hook me up with the net now, I would have gone off to read all HP fanfic I could find; the good, the bad, the downright stupid. It would have given me an idea was I was in for.

At least I had not found any mysterious trinkets in my trunk. For example a locket that was, by pure accident a horcrux or a diary that ate my words. I considered taking the diary from Ginny just to see what happened. Then I considered disrupting the story in any conceivable way and see what happens. With some luck I got extracted before the whole HPverse blew up. But I couldn't even remember how many horcruxes there were and what they were.

Getting out a quill and parchment, I sat down to make a list of things that could, I hoped, get me thrown out of the fandom.

1) Expose Quirrel as host of Voldy  
2) Take the diary and keep it. Maybe I could torture Voldy with bad PWP or something until he self-destructed. It was worth a try.  
3) Reveal that the cup thingy was a portkey leading to Voldy.  
4) Let the troll clobber Harry  
5) Steal Hermione's time-travel thingy. Maybe I could travel back in time and clobber those who sent me here, too.  
6) Prevent the PT from coming real in the way I knew it. That had nothing to do with HP, but it was something I wanted to try anyway.  
7) Okay, I was already out of ideas.

I really had no clue what those books were about in detail; I didn't even get the teachers for Defence Against Dark Arts straight. But thinking about them gave me another item for the list.

8) Expose Moody as – uh, whatever wizard was impersonating him.  
9) Tell Dumbledore about the fake locket.

I crumbled the list and threw it away. It was no good. Nothing of that would really work. I'd have to do some flyby improvisation. Oh, fuck. I was so stuck here.


	2. Chapter 2: Generally Annoying

Note: Thank you Shakatan. I will do my best to live up to your expectations. Updates may be slow though, as I really don't know jack about Harry Potter.

There will be a lot of crossover references. I won't explain (or even mark) them _all_, except if somebody should wish so.

* * *

Chapter 2: Generally Annoying

"Hey, you! Wake up!"

My eyes snapped open and I looked around disoriented. Where was I? I focussed on the wooden ceiling above and it hit me with full force. Not the ceiling, the realisation where I was; though even the ceiling crushing down on me could not have had a worse impact. I was trapped in the Potterverse; being eleven. Uhu chose the exact moment to hoot. It was no use denying.

"Hey, you! Wake up!"

I looked around, but didn't see anybody. Was this some wizard alarm clock? Whatever it was, it was well hidden. I got up anyway, stumbling over to the basin with warm water. Halfway there I realised that I could actually see very well. That meant I had been wearing my contacts for how long without a break? They should be hurting like hell.

I poked around in my eyes, trying to find my contacts but in vain. Maybe I did not need any yet? Or was it poetic license so I would not resemble the hero of the story too much. Though, I did not sport any scars yet. Craning my neck I had to realise that my tattoo had also vanished. Oh fuck!

"Hey, you! Wake up!"

Now this was becoming an annoyance. Still, I could not see anything. "I _am_ awake," I grumbled loudly. A breakfast materialised on the table in my room. Okay, I really needed to get the hang of magic. But first – I almost dribble water all over another letter propped up against the basin. Those fangirls were rather talkative. I wondered what they wanted.

_Dear Mellanna,_

_as we can see you have adapted well to your new life already. We really like the background you have created for you adopted family. Things will be set up according to your statements. Detailed information and keepsakes will follow soon._

_Yours sincerely_

_Devoted Fans_

I stared at the parchment. They would _what_? Did they really think making everything I said about my background real would be a good idea? And what keepsakes? Pictures? Baubles? What kind of stuff would a child from such a family want to keep? Frustrated I sat down and began to eat.

Uhu fluttered in as I was half finished, dropping a small parcel beside my plate. I fed him the remainder of my scrambled eggs. He hooted happily, making a mess with them on the windowsill. I managed to ignore the parcel until I had finished eating. What if it held the threatened things already? Though, it did look a bit too small for that.

Finally, I opened it. It contained – an envelope. Yeees, fine. At least there was a letter accompanying it. Lucky I decided to read that first. The item in the envelope was a portkey that would bring me to the station, my obliging turtles* told me. So I should take care to touch it only when I had everything ready because it was a one-way-ticket. Like the whole trip, huh? Well, bother.

I wondered if the room was already paid for and what would happen if not and I just portkeyed out of the place. In the end I decided against it. I didn't want my first, and probably only, letter here to be a demand note. It was most likely going to shout all over the dinner table. That did have its allure again, but no, it was not like me at all. Staring at my surroundings I decided to try and stay myself as well as I managed.

So I went down and Tom was still behind the counter - I swear the guy lives there – just to find out that I paid in advance. Silly me, how could I forget. I went back up again, almost tripping over my own robe several times. That outfit might look mightily impressive, if you were impressed by people in black nightgowns that is, but it was very inconvenient. If there had not been a skirt underneath, I would have flat out refused to wear it; too kinky even for me.

Uhu was sitting on the sill staring out intently. I wondered how you got one fucking big owl into a small cage without losing fingers. I could have used Bumblebee as bait, but it was too late for that. Or not, as I found out when I walked up to Uhu. The thing he was watching intently in the yard was a black rat that didn't seemed bothered at all. It obviously had the brains of – well a rat.

"No, you don't," I told Uhu, still wondering how to make him go into his cage.

He blinked at me slowly, not impressed in the least. "Shoo." Then he turned his attention back to the rat. Which had not taken the opportunity to run but rather stood on its hind legs. "I said 'no'," I repeated and closed the window. Uhu took the chance to bite the sleeve of my robe.

"You and I," I levelled a finger at him, "do have to get along. Until you get the idea of open windows and just leg it, wing it, whatever." Since Uhu had not bitten me yet, I became bolder. "You had your chance to flee this madness, Uhu. Now you have to wait until we're at Hogwarts to try again. And if I see you eating Bumblebee, I'll point my wand at you and simply say anything just to see what happens. Is that clear?"

Uhu blinked again lazily, nibbled on my finger and hopped into his cage. I was sure he was trying to drive me crazy; the sad thing was that he was doing a really good job at it. I really wished I had kept Bumblebee; at least he had been furry and cute. Uhu decided that it was a good time to leave me to my own devices. He put his head under his wing and fell asleep. What a great help those owls were.

I began to get my stuff together. It would be difficult to hold on to everything while using the portkey. For a moment I considered leaving Uhu behind, but eh chose the very moment to wake up and blink at me. That bird was uncanny. In the end I decided to just sit down on my suitcase with Uhu's cage on my knees. It threatened to throw my silly pointy witch hat from my head, but then didn't. Bad luck.

I unwrapped the portkey. It was some kind of locket, black and – oops, I had touched it. Oh fuck. The world around me disintegrated. I got compressed and might have fit into my full suitcase easily until I extended back into my proper (at least for this time and 'verse) form.

So I was now stuck in the middle of King's Cross Station with a brick of a suitcase, an owl and no trolley. Somebody had been thinking again. Not. I looked around but there was no trolley in sight. Instead I had apparated neatly between the platforms five and six. It was probably as far to the next trolley as to platform nine-and-three-quarters. Bother.

I began dragging my trunk forwards, balancing Uhu in his cage precariously. Nobody cared and even fewer offered help. I wondered where the Helpless Child Bonus had gone to. I was definitely too young for damsel in distress. I bet the Malfoys just apparated on the platform itself and spared themselves the trails of a British railway station. Lucky bastards.

It seemed to take forever to get to platform eight. Huffing and puffing, I finally did arrive. Now I just had to worry about getting through the barrier. The way I was moving, passing it in a run as suggested was out of question. Asking some wizard to have my suitcase float was most likely not a good idea either. If I remembered correctly, using magic where muggles could see it was forbidden.

Did that mean I was taking part in an illegal action? Being a muggle, when you were honest about it, doing magic where I could see it was forbidden. This was going to be a very illicit copy of the books. Thursday Next would have me down in a heartbeat. I wondered what would happen if I jumped around flailing and shouting 'Grammasites! Grammasites!'. It _was_ tempting.

The story was saved by the sudden appearing of a black woman with her son. He looked remarkably monochrome in his black robes. Nobody had informed me abut this, at least not that I could remember. 'Mine,' I decided on the spot. If I didn't know who he was, chances were good he wasn't mentioned much. Plus his mum displayed her wand as if she wanted to poke out some muggle eyes.

I struggled with my suitcase towards the wall, pausing to catch my breath just as the two wanted to pass. "Oh, sorry." I tugged at my bag, not moving it an inch. "It's rather heavy, I'll," huff puff, "get it out of the," huff some more, "way immediately." I sagged a bit before gripping the handle tightly again.

A short kick of magic sent my suitcase to the other side of the barrier. "Thank you, ma'am," I called after her, but she was already gone. However I always managed to pick the haughty ones. At least I was now in a place full of wizards and getting a hand with my trunk.

The train was indeed bright red, and a steam train. Wizards and witches were gathered in small groups taking leave of children of all ages. I felt lost among so much familial affection and tried to keep up with my new best friend. A friendly porter made that a lot easier by grabbing my trunk and heaving it into the train. I just left it, anybody was welcome to steal it, provided they could lug it away.

Most of the compartments were already occupied. I hoped my prey had not chosen a last free seat in one of the cabins. I was too lazy to set my sight on somebody else. Well, except Draco maybe. He might kick me out after five minutes, but it would be so worth it.

Well, he was not in a full compartment. I flopped down opposite of him grinning happily. "Hi."

He tried to raise a brow, but that needed some more work before it was any kind of impressive. "What do you want?"

"To know your name," I replied. "I am Vianne, you new best friend."

He snorted and I liked him immediately. "Says who?" he wanted to know.

"I do, though it would be easier if I knew your name."

"Fat chance," he said.

"Oh, no problem, I can live with calling you Klaus. Can you?"

"You are insufferable."

"Only as long as you don't know me," I assured him. "I can be really nice, if I want to."

"I doubt it."

He was a tough nut to crack. "Okay, wonderboy, how about a deal," I suggested. "You suffer me until we reach Hogwarts and if you still don't like me by then, I'll not bother you again."

He tried to raise a brow again.

"You need to work on that," I said pointing at his brow. "It's not nearly going high enough yet, and the other brow keeps twitching. The groundwork is very good, though." I wondered if I should tell him to take lessons from Draco.

"I'll find another compartment," he said getting up.

"Okay, okay," I raised my hands in defeat. "I'm leaving. Guess, I'll have to annoy Draco instead." I got up and went to the door. "I'd still like to know your name, though. You're nice."

He looked at me as if I had lost my mind. Which was close, but actually my mind was the only thing I still had. "Blaise Zabini."

"Nice to have met you, Blaise," I said and smiled. "Don't let me annoy you, it only makes me happy." Winking at him I left the compartment. Finding Draco should not be too difficult. It was only a train.

Draco was very obliging and sat only a few compartments down the aisle. There were two ugly boys sitting with him leaving exactly one seat free for me. How very considerate. I sat down grinning. "Hi there."

"That seat is taken," Draco informed me. His tone was a shade of haughty his dad did a lot better.

"Yes, I know," I replied. "By me. I am Vianne by the way."

"You are not welcome," one of the boys said.

"Tell me something new." I stuck my tongue out at him. "But I never let that bother me. And I was thrown out of the other compartment I was sitting in already. Not going to have that happen twice. Feel free to leave, though."

They stared and I stared right back. The competition came to an abrupt halt when the train started to move. I saw the face of Lucius Malfoy approach slowly as we moved, so I got up and went to the window. I waved at him grinning madly, and really enjoying that incredulous look he gave me. Yeah, you son is in my clutches for the time to come, Malfoy. Eat that.

When I turned around an ugly girl had taken my seat. Okay, I should not be one to talk in her case. It was probably not her fault that she had a Prince Ironheart hairstyle, and I had been guilty of that too. Not a mistake I'd repeat this adolescence. Draco was grinning mischievously, probably thinking that would get rid of me. He'd have no such luck. "Hey, girl," I greeted her, "I am Vianne. What's your name?" Then I managed to squeeze myself between her and a very annoyed Draco. Oh, this was fun.

"I am Pansy Parkinson," she replied in a tone that wanted to be haughty when it grew up.

"Vianne Snyder, pleased to meet you." I held out my hand towards her which was awkward at such close quarters. "Say, isn't that a flower? I keep forgetting."

She wrinkled her nose. "How can you forget that?" She obviously considered me to be stupid.

"You see," I explained, "this is not my mother tongue. That would be German, so I keep forgetting which flowers have what names in English sometimes. Sorry."

They all stared. "Why are you not going to a school in Germany then?" Pansy wanted to know.

"Oh, not enough wizards there," I said. "Most got wiped out during Third Reich." Eat that, editors of my background!

It seemed I had not violated anything canon, because Pansy replied, "I heard most of them _fled_."

"Well, you wouldn't be fast returning to a country that forced you out like that, would you?" I improvised.

"So why would your parents teach you German?" she dug on. "And why do you not attend Durmstrang?"

Well, she had me there. Come to think of the background I was getting, nothing of what I just said fitted in at all. Go, me. "Because knowledge is a wonderful thing," I finally said. "And my parents do live in England now, so Hogwarts is actually the logical choice. Except if you're a Malfoy, that is." I shot Draco a glance.

"What do you know about that?" Draco scoffed.

Taking the opportunity I grinned. "Not enough by far, but I think Hogwarts is a step in the right direction. I should have enough time there to find out."

"If you can learn anything at all," he sneered. It was quite adorable, but I didn't think he'd appreciate my pinching his cheeks in public.

"Why not?" I wanted to know. "It is a school after all."

"You are daft, are you?" Draco replied. "I heard that Dumbledore-"

"Now that might just be your problem," I interrupted him. "Don't believe everything you hear, and not everything you read either. Take time you get your own opinion."

"Your sources must be very unreliable," he snorted.

I scratched my head. "Possibly; I wouldn't trust most people further than I can throw them and that does include your father." I could stop myself just in time before telling him that if I _ever_ got my hands on his father, throwing him away would be the last thing on my mind. The troubles of still having a mind in its mid thirties.

Draco turned a nice shade of red, even without me pinching his cheeks. It was probably well that he couldn't read my mind. "You could try," he hissed.

I eyed him speculatingly. "I might, though I don't think it'd be very healthy for me. After all Lucius is a wizard and a strong one, too" He was not sure whether to be angry for calling his father by his first name or pleased because I admitted to his powers. I decided to help him. "I am think it is not easy to live up to his expectations, but I'm sure you're doing fine."

"Of course, I am," Draco said immediately.

"At least, you have somebody to live up to," I added softly before getting up. I had spied the trolley with the sweets coming our direction. "I'm getting candy," I announced. "Anybody have orders?"

There was but silence and I wondered if that meant 'no', or 'we don't talk to you'. Maybe both, because as soon as I had left the compartment, they closed the door behind me. Bother, my people skills were still extremely lacking. Well, I did have a few years to work on that now. And a whole school full of test subjects.

I arrived at the cart and stared at the selection. Not that I was really keen on any of it. Oh well, time to act like a witch.

"I would like five chocolate frogs," I said, "and - I really can't decide. This is the first time I see magical candy." I let my eyes wander over the selection. "Is there something you can recommend?"

"Of course, dear," the woman replied. I listened intently as she explained the various sweets.

Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans did sound interesting, but I did not feel inclined to try them. Still I decided to get a box, just in case I did find anybody to share with. I was still wondering if Pumpkin Pasties were tasty and how many Cauldron cakes to take when Harry appeared. Good timing on my part; if only I had been able to think of something useful to say. I couldn't so I decided to go with not useful. "Do you know pumpkin pie?"

"What?"

"These," I pointed at the pasties, "are Pumpkin Pasties. But I only know pumpkin in salty food so I wondered if you know knew any sweet pumpkin dishes."

"Sorry, no," he shook his head. "I don't know anything about magical sweets."

"You and me both," I replied. "I am Vianne, by the way, Vianne Snyder. Just got to know I would be a witch a few days ago when I got my letter from Hogwarts."

He seemed intrigued. "I am Harry," he said and after a small pause added, "Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you, Harry," I offered my hand which he took and shook. "Guess, I'll have a few of the pasties anyway," I told the lady behind the cart. Then I packed everything up and grinned at Harry who seemed half confused and half relived. "Trying all of those will be quite an adventure. See you in school."

I left him to the cart and its contents. There was no real need to get involved in the main story. If my fangirls had wanted that, they would have forced it down my throat. They still might, though. Depending on whose secret love child I turned out to be. I really needed to contact best friend about this. Chewing on my lip I wondered if I could use my wand as a textmarker or if there was a spell to make it work as footnoterphone.

I was so deep in thought that I had almost stepped on a toad that had nothing better to do than sit in the middle of the aisle and go 'croak' at me. "Hello, Neville's Toad," I said and it went 'croak' again.

The good thing about running around in floor length black nightgowns was the sheer amount of space they could create for carrying things around. I gathered most of the front of the robe into a big pouch - thanking heaven for the skirt I wore underneath, even though it was an incredibly ugly excuse for a skirt – and picked up the toad. It would be the easiest way to get rid of, by parking it at Ron's and Harry's. But first I needed to secure a place for my sweets.

Draco's compartment was out of question. In the vicinity of Crabbe and Goyle, who had to have first names floating around somewhere, the stuff would survive not quite as long as a snowflake in hell. I found Blaise still on his own on the compartment I had left him in.

"Hi again," I said waving the toad a bit helpless. "If it's okay for you, I'd like to stash some sweets here while I bring back the toad."

"Why do you bother to ask?" he wanted to know.

I shrugged. "Because I can?" Then I dropped the candy onto the seat opposite to his. "Take some if you want to. I'll be back"

So I was now leaving a trail of confusion instead of annoyance. I was not sure if that was much of an improvement, but right now I was not interested in being annoying for a while. My people skills were mainly just pushing random buttons and seeing what happened. Not a good approach if you came to think about it.

I burst right into a discussion about Quidditch, if you could call it that. Mostly Ron talked at Harry who tired to follow the explanations without having ever seen a Quidditch field. I think that was pretty difficult.

"Hi there, Harry," I said poking my head into the compartment. "Say did Hermione and Neville come by already?"

He nodded. "They were looking for his toad, Trevor. That is Ron," he added indicating the red haired boy.

"Hi Ron," I greeted. "I'm Vianne and I have the toad." My eyes roved over the chaos of opened packages and crumbs. "So, did you try those Pasties, Harry?"

"No," he shook his head, "but Ron's from a wizarding family, he will know."

"Oh, cool." I took a step into the compartment because somebody tried to pass behind me. Only they did not; they were trying to get into partition as well. Balancing Trevor, I made sure to sit down on as little candy as possible. When I turned around, I saw Draco with his two bullies, and couldn't suppress a grin.

"Is it true?" he wanted to know. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, isn't it?"

"Yes," Harry replied and I bit my tongue so I would not burst out with some completely improper comment. It worked right up to the moment Malfoy came up with the theory of some people being better than others.

"Oh come on, Draco, don't tell me you actually believe that bullshit," I burst out.

"Vianne," it sounded like an insult from him. "I am not surprised that you are here with a Weasley."

"Actually, I am here because of Trevor." I thrust the toad into his direction. Predictably he took a step backwards. Other people's toads were not the most charming thing in the world. "But I am willing to renounce that and act in the name of peace and interfamilial understanding."

He looked at me as if I had sprouted tentacles. "What would you know about that?" he finally scoffed. "You didn't know wizards existed until a few days ago."

"Which means I have a very muggle, or rational if you prefer, approach to the whole thing. And the last time muggles propagated this philosophy with some kind of success, you had Hitler and his funny little friends. Please excuse me, if I am not convinced such stuff is a good idea."

"That was something completely different."

"Once you start being more equal than others and better, no it's not," I objected. "But hey, I have an idea." I got up and handed the toad to Ron. "You enlighten me on the peaceful aspects of Mouldy Vodly's plans and I promise to be not annoying at all."

There were gasps and a snigger which I hoped was from Harry. I winked at him before pushing the future Slytherins from his compartment. "He's not so bad," I told him over my shoulder. "He just doesn't know it yet."

It would have been a lot more difficult to push the boys back to their own partition if they had not been so floored about me calling Voldy by a nickname.

"You said his name!" Crabbe finally burst out.

"No, I certainly did not," I corrected. "I called him Mouldy Voldy which is not quite the same as Voldemo-"

"Shut up!" Draco was obviously unhappy. "This is no joking matter."

"Says the son of the Death Eater." I ducked away under a very well-aimed punch.

"My father was the first to renounce his allegiance," Draco said angrily.

"Yes, he was," I replied flopping down next to Pansy. "Let's hope he doesn't remember that tactics when Voldy returns."

"You do not joke about He Who Must Not Be Named," Draco insisted, turning a rather girly shade of pink.

"_Au contraire_." I had several uncomprehending stares directed at me. "I mean, quite the opposite. You know what a boggart is, right? And how you ward it off?"

"Of course," Darco was right back to superior condescendence. "But I think they will not allow us to work with them in the first year."

"Good. On both accounts, I guess." I really did not want to see my own boggart, thought it might be a revealing experience. "And right now, what is He With the Ridiculously Long And Capitalised Name but an elaborate boggart? I think some ridicule would be the perfect way to deal with him."

"What do you know," Goyle muttered. "You are not even a real witch. You are just a muggle in robes."

I pulled put my wand and held it under his nose. "That might very well be, but I know at least a few ways to wreak mayhem and even death on you with this wand none which do involve any magic at all." If it had not been hugely gross, I would have stuck the wand up his nose just to emphasise the point. "But I will not because it's the first day. Killing other pupils on the first day is considered bad manners."

"Oh, so you think you could hurt any of us?" Draco made it sound like a challenge.

"I could kill you with my brain," I said, putting my wand away. The answer did not have much of an effect, though. I really needed to get into contact with some nerds; and Kaylee – ack, Kayly of course. This cross fandom referencing made me all fuzzy in the head.

"Well, no hard feelings. I'll go and have some treats now. Of course, you're all invited." I scratched my head. "You'll just have to tell me about Voldy some other time. I am really starving."

When I returned to my compartment, Blaise had already made short work of the Pumpkin Pasties. I held up an empty wrapping. "Well, I guess they're good then."

"Were," he corrected.

"I'll make a note to get some more next time, or secure one for myself then." I sat down and took one of the chocolate frogs. "You wouldn't by chance know if Cadbury is involved in those any?"

"Of course not, Muggle Studies is a subject you can only take from the third year onwards." He scrutinized a Liquorice Wand.

I unpacked the frog and it immediately jumped against the window. I watched it struggle and finally freeze before I plucked it off and bit off its leg. "Good enough," I finally judged and stuffed the rest of the frog into my mouth. Then I took a look at my card. It was Merlin and to my utter disappointment he didn't look like Sam Neill the least. "Bother."

"Dumbledore or Merlin, I guess," Blaise said. "They're on every other card, I tell you."

I looked at the generic old wizard on my card who took the chance to vanish. "Merlin, but he already left. Must be busy work, appearing on all those cards."

I got an introduction to the trading cards of the wizarding world for free. Feigning genuine interest helped, but it was actually just slightly interesting. I had never been into trading cards or collecting stickers. Come to think of it, the last stickers I had found had ended up on the Cookie Wheel of Fortune for the last Jedi-Con. Go figure.

I took the time to eat a few more chocolate frogs, got a card with Dumbledore, a Circe and a Uric the Oddball card. I liked Uric immediately, his hat proved his taste, and asked the few expected questions. I was just about to ask how you managed to get your own card when an announcement rang through the train.

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Now that was great news. I had not been looking forward to lugging my trunk around again. I gathered up the remainder of the sweets, I was still stuck with a whole box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and tried so look out of the window. It was dark by now. All I could see where a few lights which I supposed to be Hogsmeade.

"Too bad we won't be coming here at the weekends for the next two years," I said. "I am not sure I'll like being locked up in a castle."

"You were getting around much before?" Blaise asked.

"I am used to do pretty much whatever I want," I answered. "Maybe I'll have to keep to the environs, though they consist of an awful lot of lake and Forbidden Forest."

"Practice your swimming, I'd say."

"Sure, want to come along?"

He looked me up and down. "We will see."

"Great!" I grinned at him. Then I raced out the door because the train had stopped. I almost bounced into a group of pupils already waiting to disembark. Most of them were taller and older than me. Especially the latter felt strange.

"Not going anywhere, huh?" Blaise poked his head out of the compartment.

"Can't blame a girl for trying." I felt the crowd starting to move. "I'll keep a seat free for you in a boat." Then I was carried away by the rushing pupils. I tried not to trip over robes and elbow others too much, but it was difficult since everybody seemed to be intent on being the first to arrive at Hogwarts. Amazing enthusiasm if you considered it was a school.

"Firs' years!" Hagrid called from one end of the station. "Firs' years over here!"

Even in the crowd of first years I was among the shortest. Oh didn't I love it when history repeated itself? We went down a steep path, unknown to all of us in almost complete darkness. I was expecting the NSPCC to jump out of the bush and stop the dangerous madness any second, but to my amazement they didn't. Maybe wizard's children were fair game. Come to think of it, I could remember some more ridiculously dangerous things about Hogwarts. It was possible that you got your graduation simply for not getting yourself killed while attending.

"No more'n four to a boat!" I heard Hargind call. So I had missed the amazing first view of the castle. I'd so live. Still I had to admit that it looked very impressive, perching on top of a cliff towering over a deep black lake, only the light windows mirroring in the dark. No light pollution to be seen anywhere. I grabbed a free boat and waved to Blaise. "Here! Got you a seat!"

"So you're really serious about this friends thing, huh?" Blaise looked at the three empty seats of my boat. He glanced around but everybody else had already found seats in different boats. With a sigh he got in.

"I am new to this," I explained. "I have no idea what to do, but your mum – she looked as if she was going to curse people left and right."

"Hex," Blaised corrected me, "you hex people. Cursing is forbidden."

"Oh, excuse my muggle speak. Anyway, I like the attitude; I feel like that a lot."

"Like hexing people? Why?"

"You did not live among muggles for a while, did you?" I asked him.

"Of course not," he replied almost offended.

"Well, if you do, that wish comes automatically. Most of them don't think." I looked around but didn't see Draco anywhere. "Though I am afraid it won't b much better in the wizarding world already," I added with a sigh.

"Ninety Percent of everything is curd," Baise said.

"And this makes you my new best friend for real," I laughed.

"What?"

"Quoting Sturgeon's Law."

"Fish make law? You muggles _are_ strange." He shook his head. "My mum says it, and it's just the truth."

"Sad but true," I agreed. I looked up at the stars trying to ignore the whispers around me. This was such a beautiful night. The last time I had seen so many stars had been while I had been visiting my cousin's guest house in the Vorgese mountains. That brought my thoughts right back to Kayly, the huge snowman and the tanks of tea we had emptied. So much for repeating that experience in a few weeks.

I let my fingers trail in the water. "So will we go no more a roving, so late into the night..."

"What?"

"Oh, hmm?" I looked up suddenly aware again that I was not alone in the boat. "Sorry, I was - distracted."

"Yes, you were, but 'a roving'?" Blaise asked.

"I don't know why, but I always associate that with rowing," I shrugged. "I think it's because they sound similar. I think it's acoustic dyslexia or something."

"You realise that the use of long words is suspect? I'd avoid them in front of adults if I was you."

"Will try," I assured him. "There are so many things I will have to get used to." I looked at the approaching castle. I have never been to a public school, I have never lived in a castle, and though I have been eleven before, I could not really remember what you did at that age. I was not sure if skinny dipping in the lake would be appropriate. maybe the people living down there took offence?

Before I could ask Blaise if he knew anything about that, Hagrid shouted another order. "Heads down!" That did not come a second to soon because the boats were intent on floating right into the cliff. Fortunately there was an opening hidden behind a wall of ivy. By ducking everybody made sure not to get tangled up in the greenery.

There was a tunnel going into the mountain behind the ivy and I guessed there was some kind of boat house somewhere on the castle's grounds. Not that I remembered hearing of it before. Not that _that_ meant a lot. We reached a harbour that was under the castle and had to get out of the boats. I wondered if that had really been enough time now for everybody else to arrive in the school before us. Well, I'd see.

We formed an almost line and followed Hagrid up to the doors. They were huge, even the half giant looked small in front of them. I hummed a theme of doom as we approached, but was drowned out by Hagrid's loud knocks on the doors.

* * *

* turtle: in Otherland a turtle will tell you what to do in the simulation if you have no clue


	3. Chapter 3: Sorting the Disarrayed

Chapter 3: Sorting the Disarrayed

The gilded doors opened and I was washed in among the wave of kids rushing forwards as if there was something to be had for free. The only thing we got though, was our first sight of Mrs. McGonagall. She looked pretty much like a catalogue witch from any mail order service with the dark green dress and the pointy hat. Her stare was pretty good, but I would still have preferred Granny Weatherwax. Oh, to see _that one_ knocking the stuffing out of Snape. They would get along like – things that get along very well.

I tried to find Draco who had a scene with Harry now if I remembered correctly. But he did not. Instead Mrs. McGonagall welcomed us in the school, explained the house thing and told us about a test to come and sort us in the houses. Then she left and worried whispering came up.

"It's just a hat," I told Harry who got obviously nervous by Ron's explanation. "Ron's brothers were just trying to frighten him. It's all easy: you sit down, the hat calls out the house and you're done."

"It cannot be that easy," Hermione objected. "How can a hat know which house is best for us?"

"I have no idea," I admitted. "Ask it."

"And if it's not a house we want to be in?" Harry asked.

"I am sure it will see reason, or you could hex it." They stared at me. "I am joking abut the hexing," I explained. Where was Draco when you expected him to turn up? He would be a good example of how people got into the houses they wanted. Though, come to think of it, so was Ron.

Before I could start a proper lecture, a bus-load of ghosts appeared through a wall behind us. Some of the kids screamed like girls, most likely because the breaking of the voice still had to happen. There were also excited gasps and I had to admit that, coming from a completely scientific and ghost-free world, this was quite a sight. They were translucent and slightly lucid and not all of them very scary; at least not from my adult point of view.

"New Students!" A fat friar said, looking mightily pleased. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"

There were a few murmurs, but nothing comprehensible. After spending several hundred years in this school, I decided the ghost ought to know and didn't deserve and answer.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff," he said, answering his own question. "My old house."

I considered going to Hufflepuff for a second. Completely ignoring if I actually belonged there or not, he was from the Middle Ages; a friar and a fat one at that. His mind was probably all kinds of dirty, which was just the kind of company I might be looking for.

Of course that left me completely vulnerable to any spite from Snape. Not that there was anything wrong with a spiteful Snape, he really looked quite good with that sneer – okay, it was probably a Rickmann thing. That guy _always_ looked great – it was just that I was fucking eleven and therefore the improper intensifier was actually out of bounds.

If I really had to spend seven years in this school, I might as well buy into as little harassment from Snape as possible. Plus Draco was a Slytherin and he'd be such fun to annoy. I really had to get my hands on him and invite myself to Malfoy Manor. There was no such thing as too much Malfoy.

"Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Mrs. McGonagall's voice put a stop to my musings. And started a completely new string of thought as I suddenly wondered where Mr. McGonagall was and why we never saw him. Or maybe I just didn't want to know what happened to the last few people that had dared to call her 'Miss'.

We followed her into the great hall which was really rather great. I liked the columns and the huge coloured windows at the other end of the hall. Herding us through the tables full with old pupils was running like the gauntlet. Herding cattle to the market, only that there was to be no bidding on the prize bull. I spied the Gryffindor table by the sheer amount of redheads sitting there.

A sea of candles hung overheard. For once I didn't mind being so short, it would surely have bothered me to have fire so close to my head. Way up was no ceiling but what looked like the night sky. I wondered how you ever managed to keep a place like this warm. No wonder they needed magic, their utility bills would kill them. I just wished I could see the ceiling because I was rather fond of high-domed rooms. Possibly with baroque angels in them, the grown-up kind, approaching from the left with lilies – monkey-wannabe.

My mind had definitely wandered, but I didn't think I had missed much as the hat had just stopped singing. The thinking cap pun was groan-worthily funny, I appreciated. Letting my eyes roam, I took in the teacher's board, especially Snape because he looked good and Quirrel because he was evil reincarnate that stuttered. Also, his turban was an abomination unto fashion. Somebody should write a fic of Lockhart lecturing him on that.

I was sure to have missed my own sorting when I saw Draco march over to the Slytherin table looking smug. It took me up to 'R' to realise my new surname started with an 'S'. Not much time to get my thoughts in order. If I got this wrong – I'd just have to camp in the Slytherin room until I was resorted.

"Snyder, Vianne!" McGonagall called out, not the slightest hint in her voice that this was strange and I should not be on the list, not to mention here.

I trotted up to the chair and sat down, closing my eyes in concentration. The world went dark.

"Hello Hat," I said. "I would like to inform you that I will be going to Slytherin."

"Slytherin?" The doubt was unmistakable. "You do not belong into Slytherin."

"So what?" I bit back. "Sort me into any other house and I'll shower the place with transfer requests. I know a very good xerox spell."

"Xerxes will not help you here, young lady. You should rightfully belong to Hufflepuff."

Oh great, he had said it. As if I didn't know. "Look, Hat. There is just absolutely no way I will have myself picked on by Snape for the next seven years. And since I am a tad too young to be a love interest I will go to Slytherin. Have I made myself clear?

There was a silence while he hat sorted through my thoughts, probably seeing the dreaded image of me using the other option to get around being on the receiving side of Snape's bad temper. Obviously, he didn't like that. "Slytherin!" he called.

I jumped off the chair a happy grin on my smile and went to sit down opposite to Draco. "Now that went well."

He gave me a nasty look, but I was already distracted by Blaise who had been sorted into Slytherin, too. Now that would make a lot of things easier. Not that he looked too happy about it. I waved happily at Harry and Ron who didn't know how to react and tentatively returned the waving. Draco glared and he was doing such a good job that I was tempted to wave at some Hufflepuffs too, just because.

But Dumbledore got up, looking like he was to give a speech. He was doing a creepy old man impersonation, looking as if there was nothing more pleasant than first years – probably with pepper sauce. "Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment'! Tweak! Thank you!"

I applauded like a maniac, the smile on my face twelve parsecs wide. Now _that_ was a speech! I especially liked the end, because 'Oddment' and 'Tweak' were very close to my current state of mind. How could I ever have forgotten about this bit? Was it not in the films or something? Or were things changing already simply because I was here. I would give that some thought, but later. Food appeared out of thin air.

Food was consequential. Imminent destruction of the Potterverse had to take the back-seat when faced with roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Not to mention all kinds of meat, vegetables and side dishes. I would have speculated on the probability of plum pudding for Christmas if I had not been so busy securing my share of everything. It was a nice realisation that due to being almost a pubescent teenager again I was ravenous.

After inhaling my first serving I stopped to look around. Social interaction would be okay to take place now. It was polite; even if I was not. Neither was the Bloody Baron who came flying low over the table, swinging his sabre. It might have been more impressive if it had actually done damage.

"Good evening, my Lord," I said. "I would appreciate if you would keep that fine sword of yours out of my head."

He whipped around, pointing the tip of the blade at my throat pointedly.

"I do have an affinity to blades of all kinds, only not if they are waved around my head. It doesn't feel safe," I just went on.

He gave me a stern look, waving the sword around for good measure. "You would not believe the things I have done with this sword."

"I am certainly willing to try, if you ever were to tell the story," I assured him. "I am sure it is quite a tale."

"A tale to sad and gruesome for a merry inconsequential evening like this," he huffed.

"Quite right, my Lord," I agreed. "If there should ever come a night sad and gruesome enough to match the severity of your tale let me know."

He gave me a last dubious look and flew away to harass other pupils.

"So," I looked around, "has _any_ of you _ever_ spend a _relevant_ amount of time in the muggle world?" It turned out to be a sure way to kill all conversation and earn unbelieving stares. Maybe I should have tried subtle. But I was still me and eleven again. Nobody could sensibly expect subtlety from me. Cool.

I shrugged, helping myself to some more chicken. "Since I am obviously stuck here now, I really would like to have the best of both worlds, you know." I looked around. "What is the best about being a wizard?"

Flaunting the advantages of the wizarding world was obviously a much better topic. It was up to debate, though if Quidditch was the best, magic pranks or being able to trace your bloodline back several hundred years. I listened to the arguing, trying to get a feeling for the stuck up kids I was stuck with. It looked as if I really needed to find out who my parents were, not to mention grandparents, great-grandparents and several other great-generations.

After several servings of dessert the food vanished leaving sparkly-clean plates and cutlery behind. I decided that this was one of the first spells I needed to learn. No more dish washing! Being a wizard would be all kinds of fun. I was so excited about the idea that I missed the first bits of Dumbledore's second speech. It was not as good as the first though, expect the part where one could die a horrible death somewhere on the third floor. I would keep that mind. Just in case this stopped being fun.

We all got up and followed the respective prefects to the dormitories. Though I had expected to go down into the dungeons, maybe I was just misled in that respect, I did get to see and use the moving staircase. It was Escher's dream come true, I really liked it. With the prefect leading us we did get to our destination without incidents. I could not wait to try this in my free time all on my own.

Our prefect, Gabriel Ididn'tgethislastnameyet, stopped before a wall. I tried to memorise what distinguished this bit of wall from all others but failed. Maybe there was a way into the dorms though the common room which I still suspected to be in the dungeons.

"Here is an entrance into the dormitories," Gabriel explained. "You tap your wand against it and say the password."

A general murmur of consent followed while I wondered what the password would be.

"The password is 'basilisk', and don't you forget it," Gabriel said tapping his wand against the wall. It slid away to the side opening into a short corridor. At its end there were two doors flanking a staircase downwards. I guessed that was the way to the common room though I had no idea why to put it so far away from the dorms. Not that I fancied my sleeping room to be in the dungeons. Or maybe I did. I was still mulling that over when Gabriel spoke up again.

"The boys' dormitories are to the right, the girls' to the left." He pointed accordingly, for which I was grateful since I did tend to mix those up. Left and right, that is, not boys and girls. "There is a spell on the girls' dorms so boys cannot enter them," he went on.

I so had to laugh. I did try to hide it under a snort but that was not enough and I couldn't stop even with everybody staring at me. "Ignore me," I got out. "Just ignore me." Somebody here in the house was old-fashioned and not up to date. I wondered what would have to happen to protect the boys dorm in a similar fashion. And I already had such nice ideas how to find it out. Trying to get my laughter under control I followed Pansy.

There were four bedrooms on the floor, two for first years, the two on the opposite side of the corridor for second years. Third and forth years were grouped together on the next floor above while five and fifth years got the level below us. The seventh years had one floor all to themselves, at the bottom and right next to the common room.

I looked around but this was it. One room, four beds, four girls. I was so going to hate it. As I was the last to come into the room, I found myself with the bed behind the opening door. At least it was set back far enough so the door would not bang against it. Our trunks stood in the middle of the room, there was no sign of Uhu.

"Did they put the owls into the owlery already?" I asked into the room as I pulled at my trunk.

"Of course," Pansy informed me from very condescendingly. It didn't suit her as well as it did Draco.

I sighed. "Good to know, thanks." I flopped down on my bed looking around. Actually, I had no wish whatsoever to unpack already. Millicent and Daphne did not look eager either, only Pansy was already unpacking. There was a cupboard besides each bed and a chest at the foot of them. "Where do you get the energy from, Pansy?" I asked watching her put the clothes into her cupboard.

"I do not want to have to look for something tomorrow." She went on without even looking at me.

And she did have a point. With a sigh I got up and began to unpack. Not that I had a lot with me, some spare robes, the stuff for the classes which went into the chest, the books which I stacked on my bedside table and the toiletries. Those gave me a start as I had no idea how the plumbing looked in the castle. I hope some modernisation had happened since Hogwarts had been built, but something told me that there had been normal toilets at least. Looking around I wondered where they had been put. I would have expected the dorms to have their own showers.

"So, where is the bathroom?" I finally asked. Three pairs of eyes came to rest on me and the faces showed that so far none of them had wondered about it. "Okay, I'll go exploring."

Taking my stuff I left the room again. But I did not have to go far. There were only five doors in the corridor, two on each side, and of course the one at the end leading back to the staircase. There was chatter coming out of the doors of the opposite of the corridor and I had seen girls go in there, too. Which left the door at the other end of the corridor as my best chance. I wondered why I had ever thought that going to a public school would have been a good idea.

The shared bathrooms were huge. They had enough space for half the girls to shower at the same time and about as many basins to wash and brush your teeth. Another door led away to the side where the toilets themselves were. I seized a basin and got ready for sleep. Girls came and went all the time. Privacy was probably something I would have to forego for the coming years. No, public school had never been a good idea, that had just been my imagination running wild.

When I returned to our room, the others had also started unpacking and the empty trunks vanished in a mysterious and obviously magical way. Magic was so convenient, I began to understand how wizards would look down on muggles. Still, being unable to do magic had made the muggles all kinds of inventive and the internet was not so far away. If I had to chose between that and magic - so far the internet was winning.

The bed was great. A huge four-poster bed, maybe only so huge because I was so small. Too bad there was no duvet to be seen anywhere. Instead there was a sheet with several blankets over it. I would have to live with it for now. After all I had seven years to hunt down a duvet, transform it from something else or simply buy it. Naw, buying was too easy.

"Have you ever been away from home for long?" Millie suddenly asked, pulling her blankets up to her nose. There were some murmurs, none very encouraging.

"Only for four months," I finally said. "But the place you live in becomes home fast enough."

"Where have you been?" Pansy wanted to know.

"Just school, nothing very interesting." I did not wish to explain cooperative education to them now. Not to mention how come I already had a _Magister sin. pan. _several years of work experience and all that. "You just have to find some people you like and everything works out."

I closed my eyes and wondered how the hell I was supposed to do that. I was almost thrice as old everybody else her, teachers excluded. At least it would all have to wait until the next day.

* * *

I did manage to sleep despite the lack of a proper blanket. And I need not have wondered how you woke up in time at Hogwarts. The noise three girls make when they get up is more than adequate to wake anybody. Yawning I blinked my eyes. Yes, I was definitely still in Hogwarts. Yes, I was definitely still eleven and yes, getting up early still disagreed with me.

I got up anyway, joining the general run on the bathroom and showers. I decided that spells against athlete's foot were very high on my to do list. As was getting a watch. I had no idea how everybody in Hogwarts always seemed to know which time it was. Magic was my best guess, I really had a lot to catch up. But then I had such a huge library to forage. I was day-dreaming about the shelves upon shelves of books when my routine was suddenly disturbed. I realised that I had nothing to shave, followed closely be the realisation there was nothing to shave, either. I inspected my armpit. Oh.

Well, at least that gave me a few years to learn a shaving spell. And while I was at it, a nail clipping spell, hair cutting spell. The image of shouting '_Manicuratis_!' at my hands was funny. The school uniform was unfamiliar. I liked that it took away any pressure to decide what to wear. Not that I was that fond of skirts, though. And I needed a green-and-sliver tie.

Hey, I got to wear ties! Completely official, I could get used to that. The skirt and socks were a draw-back. They made me look young, especially with my knees so uncovered. I wondered who had watched too many anime series to come up with that is, or, considering the length of the skirts, not enough of them. Groping for my shoes I realised that there actually was a tie in my cupboard already. Possibly a welcome gift for new Slytherin pupils. I took it happily, knotting it with a Double Windsor. Gods, I _love_ ties.

Then I went looking for Filch. Obligingly, Murphy intervened and the caretaker was nowhere to be found. I wondered how long breakfast would be served and if duvets were worth missing it when I stumbled - metaphorically, I don't think she'd take it with good grace - over Mrs. Norris. She stared at me, as if wondering what had dragged me in, since it had most assuredly not been her.

"Hello there," I said crouching low. I counted it as a success that she didn't try to attack me. "Come here little one. Don't be afraid." I held out my hand, hoping I would not have to visit Madam Pomfrey instead of having breakfast.

"What would you be doing here?" a voice like oiled graters sounded from behind me before Mrs. Norris made short work with my hand.

"Ah, Mister Filch," I greeted him getting up again. "I am talking to Mrs. Norris."

"Why?"

"Because was looking for you." I grinned happily. Yes, he was an ugly scugger and his voice was not improving on the impression, but he was the caretaker and I _would_ be on good terms with him.

"And why do you ask the cat?" His tone rang with suspicion and annoyance.

"Because it is _your_ cat. If she doesn't know, who else would there be? Anyway," I took a deep breath, "I wanted to talk to you about duvets."

"Duvets?"

"Yes. On the beds here, you get a sheet and then woollen blankets. That may all be very fine if you like that kid of arrangement, but I am used to a duvet." I didn't add that I was actually used to a fucking _huge_ duvet. "I am new here and I wouldn't know who else to ask about the matter. So it is pretty much a 'you are my only hope'-scenario."

He gave me a hard stare, his face unreadable. "Those are not the blankets you are looking for?" He finally asked.

WT-?

"No those are not the blankets I am looking for," I repeated.

Filch nodded. "Move along." He gestured me on.

I nodded, too, still thinking WTF? "Move along, I'll just move along." And I did. I was still wondering what the hell that had just been when I arrived in the great hall. There, breakfast pushed everything else from my mind. I found real salty porridge with bacon and eggs. Did I mention that I love British food? I do.

The flutter of owls caught my attention halfway through the eggs and I was surprised to see Uhu among them I mean, that was my owl, what would I be doing sending myself a note? I was talking to myself all the time, but sending letters - that was a degree of crazy I had not yet reached.

Uhu swooped down, dropping something black next to my plate before sitting down on the other side of my plate and claiming the remaining bacon. I scooped the stuff out of the bowl and tried to ignore the mess Uhu made with it. Instead I looked at the black item he had dropped.

It was gone.

Or more precisely, it had scuttled. Into my porridge and meeped indignantly at my when I hit it over the head with my spoon by accident. Coming to think of it, I might just have done that anyway. Finding a black rat in your breakfast was not acceptable, not even when it was your own rat; especially when it was your own rat.

I pointed the spoon at Bumblebee. "You get out of there at once!" I would have followed the threat up with some more spoon-hitting, but Uhu chose this moment to liberate bacon from somebody else's plate.

"Are those your - pets?" Millicent asked pointedly. She might also have said 'pests' I was not sure because she was rather angry.

I hit Bumbly with my spoon and then poked Uhu with it. "Not if they don't behave, no. Then they are not." I glared at the animals. "Then they are _dinner_!"

Annoying the two might be, but suicidal they were not. Uhu took off with a hoot and Bumbly scrambled out of my bowl right into my sleeve. Just great. I felt it leave wet little porridge prints over my arm. Trying to ignore that I wondered how I would get a new bowl of porridge. I decided to get some fresh fruit instead. With some luck somebody at the table already knew an orange-peeling spell; or even better, I didn't have my annoying neurodermatitis here.

Picking my way through some fruit salad, I looked around. Pupils sat neatly ordered to their house tables, it was rather disgusting. I poked Draco. "Hey, how do you know the time?"

He looked down at me, which was quite a feat considering our heads were at the same height. "The time telling spell, of course, you wouldn't know about it."

Too true. I nodded. "Can you teach me?"

I think so far few people actually asked him to teach them anything. I wondered for a fleeting moment about Crabbe and Goyle, but maybe they did not have such enquiring minds. "Why should I?"

"Because you can," I grinned. "And because I asked nicely. And because I promise to pester Blaise for the rest of the day instead of you, if you tell me."

The last offer did get him thinking. I must have overdone my annoying the day before. Somehow I was a bit sorry. "If you insist." I could detect the slightest hint of pride in his tone. Knowing stuff others didn't was nice, not only if you were a Malfoy. He got out his wand and flicked it causally murmuring '_tempus_' as he did so.

I concentrated on the wand movements, the rest was headology. 'Tempus' was easy to remember even if it conjured the image of wild barbarian hordes storming through the icy plains calling 'Tempus' madly just to know the time. Wulfgar would have a lot of explaining to do. I sniggered.

"What?" Draco challenged.

"Just crossover madness," I replied. It would take ages to explain it all. Not to mention that it was not a very credible explanation, but madness made you get away with almost everything. Before Draco could announce that he has suspected me to be mad from the start, Snape appeared at the table. Wordlessly he handed out our class schedules.

"Thank you, sir." The grin I threw at Snape fell from my face as soon as I looked at the schedule. I knew that public schools were said to have crazy schedules, but Hogwarts really did. Who would put a lesson at midnight in the middle of the week? Some sensible person had at least left the first hour on Thursday mornings off, but really, how much could you screw with the sleep cycle of a child?

Other than that, I had lessons every day until four except on Fridays. Starting today with Charms, Transfiguration and DADA. It was a pity that I would most likely be unable to convince Professor Quirrel to cover the subject of Schwitter's Ursonate. Now that was an incantation I would love to see in action. After lunch there was only a tour of the complete grounds left to cover. Now that might just be pleasant. And if Draco traded me a spell for peace every day - now that would be helpful, too. Maybe it worked in Blaise as well. I would find out. Seeing him leaving the hall just then I hurried after him. "Tempus!" I called to myself, imagining Wulfgar with a digital clock over his head.

That actually begged for a visual clock over the spell-casters in the school. I had a lot to learn about magic.

Since it was almost a quarter to nine already, I gave up hunting Blaise for getting my books. Turning up without books to a class was bad manners. Besides I had always liked lessons. It was fellow pupils that gave me trouble. The books were heavy and it was burdensome to lug them around. I was sure they would crush the quills and I had no chance to get proper biros for the moment. Damned. I so needed to get out of here and contact the world of the living.

I caught up with Blaise mostly because he got lost and I got the chance to trail behind him because I was even more lost and very happy when he did find the right classroom. He looked at me with annoyance when I slipped into the bench next to him.

"Sorry," I shrugged. "Promised Draco not to bother him today if he taught me a spell."

"That won't work with me," he told me and opened his book.

Looking past him, I saw Daphne sit next to him. So he was not the talkative kind, or he might have turned and talked to her. Fine. "That's okay," I assured him. "I like you anyway."

"But I don't like you," he replied without looking up.

"I can live with that." I opened my book too and browsed through it. There was a lengthy introduction and then spells, charms and their theory. It all looked interesting enough. Not quite as interesting as Professor Flitwick, though. He was short, really short, and with the white hair standing on edge on his head, he looked a bit like walking cotton candy. If it had not been for the face peeking though the white hair, he might have been cute.

As it was he looked like a gnome. Or maybe a goblin, I didn't know how things looked in this fanverse when it cam to cross-species breeding. I was _not_ going to find out. Ew! Anyway, he was so small he stood on a stack of books to look over his desk. That was - interesting seeing how he could just have chosen a smaller desk. Or a higher standing, or hovering. I mean he was a friggin wizard (thank Rincewind for me wanting to spell that with double 'z' to this very day)! Instead he perched precariously on top of some books.

That proved how dangerous it really was, when he got so excited about Harry being in class that he toppled. Harry would have quite a difficult time, if people kept reacting so strongly to him. I remembered to answer to my new name, once again wondering if the sheer ugliness of it would drive me into finding out my 'true' name some day. It was possible.

Then we started with the introduction to the book. Miranda Goshawk had taken quite some time and effort to introduce poor little first years into the secrets of charming. Not that I saw any difference to spelling (the wizarding way) hexing or magicking. But then I was just a muggle-raised bitch - erm witch. I wished I could have poked Draco with my wand, he was sitting conveniently in front of me. But I had promised. Life was unfair. I did not poke Blaise either. He was actually listening and taking notes.

Out of sheer boredom I started to do the same. It was good practice, since I had never really written with a quill before. I made neat blotches all over the parchment. Not to mention that I had no idea how to keep my notes sorted, the invention of folders seemed to have passed the wizarding world by. I decided to get some _real_ school provisions.

I managed to get a seat next to Draco for Transfiguration. I eyed the cat sitting on the teacher's desk. "So, can a wizard transfigure into any animal they like?"

"Of course not," Draco almost huffed. He liked to be better than others and it was a trait I intended to exploit until he realised what I did and stopped answering my questions.

"Why?" I tried to appear stupid, but did not know how well it worked. I had not played stupid for quite a while and I did not want Draco to carry heavy things for me. Which was something I might never have to do actually, seeing how you could make things float with magic.

"Because," he replied. "Everybody knows that."

I chewed on my lip thoughtfully. "If you could chose, which form would you take?"

"You cannot chose, stupid. Your character determines what for you take."

"A hamster then," I decided and Draco bristled. He was so cute when he did that. "Me, I mean," I added after suppressing a chuckle. "Small, fluffy and hoarding stuff. Except if there is an animal that is small, fluffy and schizophrenic?"

"Werehamster," Draco offered under his breath.

I burst out laughing, and caught a scalding glare of the cat. Trying to get myself under control I ribbed Draco. He looked at me irritated, but just when I opened my mouth to tell him to be funny more often, Harry and Ron burst into the class room.

Ron blabbered on happily on how glad he was to have made it before McGonagall arrived. Prat. The cat accordingly transfigured back into Professor McGonagall, which he immediately dubbed 'bloody brilliant'. At least the professor told him to transfigure into a clock or a map so they'd be in time in the future. Giggling, I caught Harry's eye and winked.

Unlike Harry, who didn't seem to know what to do, Draco did. He pulled at my elbow and hissed. "What are you doing?"

"Winking at Harry," I explained.

"Why?"

"Because I can." I grinned happily. "He's a bloody mudblood, and for all I know, so am I." The horror on Draco's face was well worth the wording. "But then again," I put my hand on his arm, "I might just as well be a pure-blood with ancestors going all the way back to stick their tongue out at Merlin."

Professor McGonagall's glare descended on me and I shut up. As before, the first lesson in transfiguration consisted mostly of theory. I didn't mind. Theory was good. My head worked better with a stout frame to place things into. Still, a lot of theory sounded like so much esoteric mumbo-jumbo. I tried to understand how things worked. Magic was fun and useful and I would use it to my own ends. Oh yes, I would do so very much.

Unfortunately, Draco was not very interested in theory of any kind of magic. So I ended up sitting next to Blaise again for DADA. I did manage to keep my mouth shut about possible authors coming up, though, seeing how DADA was most likely not something children of that age knew, not to mention cared about. Maybe it had even passed by the wizards as much as folders had.

Again, the lesson consisted mostly of talk. I think it was supposed to distinguish dark and light magic, but somehow Quirrel's stutter seemed to get in the way a lot and made him digress. It might just have been Voldemort hiding under his turban, too, not willing to discredit Dark Arts too much. Being a stout follower of Granny Weatherwax's approach I decided to listen to it more like a set of guidelines. In the end the decision was always up to you, standing on the thin line between dark and light. Personally, I could think of a good use for an _Imperius_. Not so much for the other two Unforgivables, but give me time.

Other than that I occupied myself with watching Draco and Blaise react to the blabber, mostly to gauge their standing in relation to dark and light magic. Blaise was a lot better at hiding his feelings. Draco was easier to read than a shojo manga. I started expecting iconic symbols appearing over his head any second.

"What?" he hissed when Quirrel was stuttering out of the window for a moment.

Quickly I gazed at the professor. I needed to make sure not to stare, or at least not to stare at Draco. "Um, just wondering," I improvised quickly, "if Professor Squirrel is nuts." Oi, that was really a bad one, it hurt when I said it out loud and I expected ears to bleed. They did not.

Instead, Draco let out a snort. "It sure looks as if the zombie ate his brains before he conquered it."

"And the turban is his thinking cap? It's not working very well, is it?" I whispered back.

"He has a lot wrong about Dark Arts," he replied. "It really is not bad."

"And everything looks dark if you're standing in the light." I shrugged. "It probably depends on your point of view."

He shot me an annoyed glance. "What would you know?"

"Only what you tell me." I resisted the urge to bat my eyes. We were not old enough for that yet. I rested my hand on my chin and stared ahead instead. "With your family's reputation, your views are worth being considered in that respect."

He huffed and I decided to leave serious topics for the future. Provided I remembered to. The trouble was that I didn't really know what else to talk about. Trading cards possibly, or broomstick flying. I would have to make sure I did not go into symbolic meanings of that, though, or I might just unleash the power of slash on Hogwarts. Not that I would be the first, I had heard - _things_. Oh dear. I very quickly concentrated on Quirrel's stuttering lecture with extreme attention, hoping to stop the flood of images before it started.

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**Note**: It seems to be working already. I am enarmoured by the _Sacrifices Arc_ by **Lightning on the Wave** and actually starting to _like _people and ideas about HP.


	4. Chapter 4: Mischief

**Note: ** I'd like to thank those few who admit to liking this by commenting. I'd be more personal, but there's often no way to get back to you. Here's free hugs and cookies for you anyway.

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Chapter 4: Mischief

When it was finally time for lunch, I had my imagination under control again. That was all the better since the teachers were having their lunch at the head table. Slash-pairing teacher was not a good idea. If I remembered correctly there was something like reading people's minds. I did not want that to happen just when my mind declared that slash-shipping Snape with any good looking guy was fine. Just think of the pictures.

I tried to trample all over those thoughts and did my best to think Faramir and Eowyn in connection with black and blonde hair mingling in the wind. Success was - about acceptable. I would have tried to drown myself in a bowl of stew, but that would just have led to awkward questions. Instead I did my best to get Draco to talk. He was almost obsessed with flying, and Quidditch and there was no stopping him once he started. Not that I wanted to. Unknown Quidditch players soaring through the sky on broom going after balls - okay, it was only a bit better.

As it was, there was more Quidditch than one could remember during one lunch time. I did my best to keep the players and teams apart as we followed Professor Kettleburn from the Greenhouses to the Quidditch pit and back through half the castle. Draco had launched into a full report of last years Quidditch World Cup, which, if you believed his stories, he had seen from the first row from the first to the last game. I didn't bother to ask what Haversacking was and how it had prevented Scotland from rightfully winning against Turkey.

Kettleburn left us at the library. Draco could not understand my excitement, but the mere idea of thousands of books - unheard of, new impossible books - was enough to make me giddy. A glance at Blaise told me he shared my affinity towards books but was better at concealing it. He was concealing everything. I think, it was quite amazing. So was Mrs. Pince. Without any decorum she told us that this was _her_ territory and we would play according to her rules if we ever dared to come here.

Making a mental list of things you didn't do if you didn't want to annoy her was much easier than making a list of the players of a Quidditch team. Finally, we were admitted into the library proper. The books were - they were the most bookish I had ever experienced. I knew how it felt to stand in the middle of a library including one and a half floors of a huge university building. How the presence of thousand of bound volumes seemed to stretch reality thing and make everything possible. I knew how it felt to stand, admittedly awestruck, among he books of Westminster Abbey Library, the huge volumes taller than me, some of them indeed chained into the shelves with wooden bars.

This was different. This was more. The scent of parchment and ink was penetrating everything, as if I _lived_ inside a well-aged copy of a Bantam book. Coming to think of that, I might. I had no idea which company published the Potter books in the States. I inhaled deeply and stared at the shelves, ignoring the look Mrs. Pince gave me. There were _books_! Counting in my head, that were three addictions taken care of: books, tea and chocolate. The rest could wait.

Almost bouncing I waited for the formalities to be over. The rest of the first years almost fled the place as soon as they could, leaving pretty much me - and Hermione. I grinned at her. "So many books," I whispered, "I can't believe it. I don't even know what to borrow first."

She looked at me with a frown. "You're that Slytherin girl from the train."

"Well, I have not been a Slytherin on the train yet," I objected, "but my name is Vianne anyway. Vianne Snyder." I held out my hand. "Pleased to meet you."

She stared at my hand for a moment before she took it. "Hermione Granger." It was obvious she did not know how to take this.

"So, you just heard you were a witch when you got the letter, too?" I asked. She nodded. "It's all so exciting," I went on. "I think I'll have a book about the theory of magic. And one about wizard customs. I have _no_ clue about wizards, really."

"But you're a Slytherin." Hermione crossed her arms before her.

"That means I am a scheming bastard and smug about it, I know." I grinned. "But since I have been raised by muggles who adopted me, I might just be a bloody muggle-born and gawds, wouldn't I _love_ to see the look on their faces if I was."

"That is not very nice of you," she declared, eyeing me suspiciously. "And I don't see why it should matter anyway."

I shrugged. "Neither do I, but people are strange. And you're right, there are not many children in Slytherin raised by muggles. I miss it."

"Well, I think this is much more interesting," Hermione said, glancing around.

At that moment I wondered why she had never, as far as I could remember, mentioned anybody from her past. Other friends from her old school, children she had played with from the neighbourhood. I did not dare to ask, though. "It's all new and so much," I agreed. "But the organisation, I mean, did nobody tell them about folders here? I want blocs and biros. Things I know how to use. How am I to arrange all the parchments? And it's only the first day."

"I am sure they have a way to organise things here. It is bound to be magical, of course." Then she began to lecture me on what she had read in the books for school so far. I listened, looking for clues on organising notes and those about her past. I found neither. But we did start down the aisle through the shelves and talk about books. That was enough for now. I did not have a clear idea about what I would want to read. There was no obvious department for wizarding customs, either, so I put that back for later. I could always try to ask Kayly about those, anyway. I hoped. I made a note to look for the Room of Requirement. Again.

Hermione got lost in the department for magic history while I tried to find biographies. Merlin might be interesting, or Cassandra, and how did books on mythology look when written by wizards. I could research unicorns and druids, merepeople of course and vampires. Gawds, vampires in the potterverse; I wondered what they were like. If they were sparkly, I could always try a van Helsing career.

I had no idea how long I roamed the library. One book led to another and soon I realised I would have to pick and chose, because the alternative was moving my bed into the library. In the end Mrs. Pince politely informed me that being a first year meant I could only take five books from the library at any given time. Stricken, I looked at the pile I had managed to carry to the counter. It did not help. So I picked five books and moped. I got a stern lecture about the treatment of the books that I inter-punctuated with varied forms of 'most certainly, madam'. I did want to borrow more books after all. Finally, I was allowed to take my precious prey away.

I ran back to the dungeons, stacking the books on my bedside table. Yep, that looked a lot more like my usual bedside table. The books _had_ been missing. I grinned. _Quidditch Through the Ages _would probably the first thing to read, if only to keep Draco happy. The biographies of Merlin and Uric the Oddball would be next accompanied by happy forays into _Household Spells for the Tidy Witch_ and

_The Theory and Composition of Spells_. Mrs Pince had looked a bit lost about my selection, but I had been a role model library user and she could not complain.

Then I cast a quick _Tempus_, because I could and because I wanted to know. Magic was such fun. I still had some time before supper, so this was my chance to go looking for the Room of Requirement. Not that I knew where to start - something with trolls, my mind whispered, but I couldn't be sure to be telling myself the truth. I stood in the main stair case looking up. It was dizzying. I watched the moving stairs. It was tempting.

I ran up the first flight of stairs which promptly changed its direction when I was halfway up. But that didn't matter. When I reached its end, I just ran towards the next one, and then another one and another. I had no idea how far up I had gone in the end, but when I glanced down it looked okay. Now all I had to do was pray. I grinned. What could happen? This was Hogwarts.

I spotted a flight of stairs slowly changing its way across the stairwell. Perfect. My excitement rose as I climbed onto the bannister. This was probably forbidden. I felt giddy. I was only eleven. I began to run and when I was above the lower moving flight of stairs I jumped with an exhilarated yell.

Of course, I landed with a slump and rolled down the stairs in a rather painful way. Even that could not wipe the maniac grin from my face. I got up again, racing up the the stairs. This was fun. I crouched on the landing waiting for the next opportunity and happily ignored the portraits murmuring around me. I still had an hour. The Room of Requirement would have to wait.

Half an hour and several sprained joints later, I almost flattened Mrs. Norris. Immediately, I stopped fooling around and searched for Filch. To my utter relief he was nowhere to be seen. Even if he should have some strange star warsy moods, he was still a stickler for rules. It was more than amazing that none of the portraits had taken enough offence to report me. Or they had and it was just that nobody believed them.

I made my way to the cat and crouched before it. "Hello, Mrs. Norris. Would you like to be scratched behind the ears?"

She stared at me in a way that made it very clear she did not and how dare I even suggest it. I shrugged and got up again. Following the cat, I hope that duvets would be happening in the near future. We were indeed moving downstairs. At the entrance of the dungeons Filch was waiting, staring at me from under his mop of greasy hair.

"Your problem is solved," he announced.

"Thank you, sir." I grinned up at him happily. "That is very kind of you, though I will make sure not to flaunt the fact and ruin your reputation."

He snorted something under his breath. Most likely including the demand to never bother him with something like that again. Not that there was any chance of that happening, should I encounter any other problems. Not that I could think of any right now, but sooner or later the wizarding world was bound to pose silly problems no muggle would ever encounter.

"May the Force be with you," I called after him.

He turned his head, mumbled and shuffled away. Now that had gone well. I guessed. I found the bit of wall that was the entrance to the dormitories. For a moment I wondered how you could change the password and what fun it would be to change it to 'Basilikum'. That would need investigating. Maybe being a prefect would help. If I managed to behave well enough to ever be one.

I fell down face-first onto my huge bed and buried my face in the duvet. Yep, this was definitely more like it. I considered starting on the biography of Uric, but _Tempus_ also worked when muffled extremely. And supper would not wait. And anyway, it was food. Never get between me and food. Uric would have to wait. The first spell to learn would be the one to make a small light to read under my blanket. Good old times. I had never thought they'd happen to me again.

Since I was not able to start on the amazing life ant feats of Uric the Oddball, I contented myself wondering if I could learn how to turn my hat into a jellyfish after some general transfiguration training and if there were repercussions for doing so. Maybe that wouldn't matter in the end. The prospect of strutting into the main hall with a jellyfish on my head was entertaining. Tor now I just strutted - right into a well filled hall.

Everybody was sitting neatly sorted to their respective house tables. It was disgusting. The food was not, and that came first. It was amazing that there were not more obese pupils at Hogwarts. Or, considering latest findings on eating habits and their origins it just might not. I sat down next to Draco who was chatting with Crabbe and Goyle who still lacked first names. I was such a slacker.

"So," I asked as I helped myself to a liberal amount of vegetables and chicken, "how do you keep up with the outside wolf form here?"

"My father will send the _Daily Prophet_," Draco said, sounding not very happy about it. "But at least he cannot make me read it here." In decided to take this as my very personal newspaper service. If it worked, I might send Mr. Malfoy a not of thanks, though that depended on whether I managed to make it also annoying. "And my mum has promised to send _Quintessential Quidditch _each week." It was not really surprising that he looked forward to that more than the news.

With a sudden I realised that I would not get any owls for the future. Not that I wanted Uhu to drop Bumblebee into my breakfast regularly, but that had really been the only post I could expect. I stashed away some food for the little critter, provided he returned. Transfigurations with McGonagall in cat form had turned him into the fastest rat in all Hogwarts. Maybe he had run into Mrs. Norris instead. Poor thing.

"can you get leave to watch the games?" I asked Draco, trying to bottle up the creeping sadness. "We're not even allowed to leave for Hogsmeade for two years."

"No," he grumbled. While Draco ranted against this unfairness, I gobbled down my supper, grabbing a second serving of veggies. "My father took me to see all the important games of the Falmouth Falcons," he finished his tirade decidedly unhappy.

"Maybe he should become headmaster then," I mumbled. Though Lucius Malfoy sitting in the headmaster's office was all kinds of warring adjectives in my mind.

Draco was actually considering the idea for a moment and then went on to explain how his father war too important at doing what he did to be headmaster here. Though her would, naturally, do a better job than Dumbledore any day.

The Malfoy-Malfoy assessment was fun to listen to. There was a good amount of hero worship covering up expectable misgivings and frustrations of an only child. He sounded rather spoilt, protected and not aware of the fact that note everybody lived the same way. And what was more, his awareness that this was not their fault was rudimentary to non-existent. Rich kids, I knew why I had avoided them.

"Best father ever, huh," I half snorted in reply.

"Of course," Draco seemed immune to sarcasm. "Nobody can hold a candle to him, not even yours."

I looked at him, pressing my lips together for a moment. "Well no, of course not. It's pretty difficult to hold anything when you're dead."

"How do you know? You were just adopted." Draco's grasp of tact was amazing.

"I surely hope he's dead," I said, grabbing a piece of treacle tart and getting up. "Because if he was still alive and not - not looking for me, that would be worse."

Now Draco was not the only one staring at me with a shocked and unbelieving expression. I must have been louder than I intended. "Well, really," I mumbled, "you don't just lose your child and go on as if nothing happened." Uncomfortable with the continued staring I left with my cake.

Sitting down next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table was possibly not the best strategy where avoiding stares was concerned. "Hi," I ignored the look on Ron's face and concentrated on Harry and Hermione. "So, how did you like the first day?"

"Can you do that?" Harry wanted to know.

"Do what?" Being eleven allowed you to speak with your mouth full and not feel guilty.

"Sit here," he explained.

"Of course." I took time to swallow. Now this was plain stupid. Houses was just a convenient way to break down a large number of pupils into manageable ones. It did not mean you were supposed to hate each other, look down on anybody or anything.

"Aren't you supposed to eat with your house mates?" Ron chimed in. He probably didn't like me. That was mutual.

"I did." I pointed at the remains of my cake. "That is just dessert."

There was no groaning and no facepalming ensued. I was rather disappointed and sure that at least Blaise would have tried to raise a brow. "There's no rules against it," I explained. "And there surely is no obligation to be an idiot, or snob or moron just because of the house you got sorted into." I looked at Harry. "So, what do you think about this school?"

"It is different," he finally said. "Not only from everything I know, but also from what I imagined it to be." He shrugged.

"In a good or a bad way?" I asked, pushing the empty plate away. "I mean, it's different from what I thought, too. The library is a blast, and there's real ghosts and magic. But I didn't think people would fall so easily into old routines they didn't make, old mentalities and rivalries and such."

"That's not so difficult, seeing who ended up in Slytherin," Ron murmured.

I looked over my shoulder at Draco and Blaise. "I could say that about Gryffindor, too," I replied, "but I won't. House rivalry is stupid. What's the reason, really? We have to spend the next seven years with each other."

"They started it," Ron insisted.

"It always takes two," I shrugged. "Anyway. I got to go. Wanted to read some and try to get a head start on Herbology and Potions."

"Most students are not any further than we are," Harry said, probably meaning pupils coming from muggle families. "I thought they would."

"Just because they are sloths, doesn't mean I have to." I stood up. "Besides it's going to take forever to read through the library."

"There are over seventy-five thousand books in the Hogwarts library," Hermione informed me. "You cannot read through all of them."

"Not going to stop me," I grinned. "Or you. Dare you to read more than me by the end of the year."

She looked intrigued and shocked. Ron mumbled something about the idea being completely stupid. With a sideways glance at him she nodded. "What will the prize be?"

"We'll think of something," I suggested.

"A book," Ron grumbled under his breath and then crumpled under the combined glares of me and Hermione.

"Well, see you tomorrow." I turned and left. And since I was already moving, I decided to have a go at finding that Room of Requirement. Not that I remembered anything about its location. I decided to search the school from top to bottom. And if I found nothing, I'd just have to try again. It took a while to get to the top floor. The moving staircases were no real help. I wondered why anybody would want stairs that might just put you down in the wrong wing of a house. Wizards were not thinking straight. It might be a useful thing to remember.

Starting at random I went ahead and tried all doors. Most were locked. I wondered why. How many forbidden and possibly dangerous objects could you stash away in one school? I decided I didn't want to know. There was the Philosopher's Stone and that would be enough for now. Not to mention a badly turbaned Lord of Evil. He should have taken more pride in his role and at least gotten black armour and a breather. Really.

After a while of opening and not opening doors I wondered if I had the right corridor on the right floor at all. Or maybe I didn't need the Room of Requirement enough. Now that was one scary thought I didn't want to pursue. I really, needed to talk to Kayly. But not today, I decided a little while later. There was only so many rooms you could peer into before you felt stupid.

I went to my room to grab some books, parchment and a quill which had nothing to do with ravens since it was bright white. Except if there were albino ravens. I mulled that over on my way to the dungeons. Maybe that was a kind of posh pen in the wizarding world, and top of the line would probably be phoenix feather quill. Then I arrived and I liked it better than what I remembered from the Gryffindor common room immediately.

The Slytherin common room emanated the kind of cosy highly exclusive British gentlemen's clubs do. Couches of dark leather, lamps with green shades and heavy furniture were scattered in the huge room. A fire place with a roaring fire was set in one wall, a davenport with a selection of books stood at another wall and snake ornaments could be found aplenty.

"Holy guacamole," I said as I went down the last steps and sat down opposite of Blaise. He read a book that was not for homework and pretended to ignore me. Slytherins of all ages lingered alone or in groups, the murmurs were very soft though. Probably the habit of those with secrets to keep. "I could get used to this. I really could."

"Do yourself a favour and stop looking like a child in a candy shop," Blaise just commented.

"But I am a child," I grinned and picked up one of my books. "And this is exactly the kind of candy I'd want."

"Parvenus only turn into noveau riche," he deigned to inform me.

"I won't mind being rich," I replied. "And later I can always marry into one of the old pureblood families. I _am_ in the perfect house for that." It was very relieving to know I'd never have to worry about any of that, seeing how I'd be gone again after seven years latest.

He pulled the book a little higher between us which made me giggle. "Only if you get to know Luthor Saltion."

Blaise did not elaborate and I decided to look up that guy later. I had never heard of him before, but again, that didn't mean anything. True to myself I started changing books every few paragraphs. The introduction to Charms was dead boring. It mostly went 'blah, it's magic, blah' and was not even written very scientific. W00t for reading children's books again. Transfiguration was not much better and it had no subject index. How was I supposed to find anything relating to hats and jellyfish under those circumstances? Not that I was sure srtg+f had been invented for computers already in the normal world. I decided to find a spell with the same function, or create one in dire case of need.

I ended up reading mostly about Uric. It was just most fun as it seemed that he had always been rather eccentric, experimenting with backwards broomflying and spells to grow trees upside down already at a very early age. The first magic he performed was said to have been turning clouds into real shapes while playing 'what does the cloud look like' with his father.

There was really not much to be done and I did have to get up early again the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. Gah, I hated school again already. But at least I had duvets now.

My personal three-girl alarm worked perfectly again the next morning. I was a bit loth to part with my newly acquired duvets, but since they were not likely to vanish again I had no real reason to linger.

At breakfast I secured a seat between Pansy and Blaise just opposite of Draco. I found porridge with raisins and liberated a liberal amount of it. "Is there any tea around?" I asked, scanning the table. There were offers of pumkin juice, but I declined politely. It might be all the rage in the wizarding world, but I had not yet acquired a taste for it. Nor would I ever, if I had a say in it.

"Bother." I started shovelling porridge into my face. "And how about my chances to encounter cola?"

There were more uncomprehending looks. "That's muggle stuff, isn't it?" Draco finally asked.

"Sure is, " I nodded. "And a great invention in the realms of caffeine. And certainly very useful for staying awake through the History class." Out of nowhere a cup appeared beside my plate. I raised it suspiciously, but it held only tea. Black, tea, a very strong English breakfast blend that left scratches down my throat as a tentative test showed. I was decidedly happy.

"House elves or house magic?" I wanted to know.

"House elves," Draco replied promptly. "Only they would be so slow."

I felt the urge to rib him, but found myself in a very inconvenient position to do so. "Thank you house elves," I said instead, taking another sip. Then I almost spit it across the table when something dug sharply into my ankle. Ferocious scratching ensued and I found an annoyed looking Bumblebee staring up at me accusingly.

"Hello down there," I greeted the wayward rat. Then I bent to pick the black miscreant up which he allowed graciously. Appeased with some of my breakfast, he even stayed seated in my lap. I was so busy finding out what my fastidious pet deigned to eat that I missed the arrival of the owls. Not that I expected anything myself.

A small parcel dropped neatly into Draco's hand. He set aside the _Daily Prophet _without a second glance and turned his attention towards the assorted sweets his mother had sent. Suppressing a mix of envy and exasperation I reached for the newspaper. "Can I borrow that?"

Draco just nodded, his mind on other things. He looked rather cute, but I refrained from pinching his cheeks in public. I turned my attention to the paper instead. I tired. I really did, but nothing I read made much sense to me. I knew (most of) the words, but whatever the Aurors had done, I was not sure if they were praised or attacked for it. The cartoon moved and made funny gestures but no sense. The only interesting bit was a sentence stating probably surprised that even in this modern time there seemed to be no way around Luthor Saltion in the ministry and politics.

I wondered if Saltion might be some kind of Ackermann of the wizarding world. That would make him a goblin here. I snickered and let crossover craziness run wild, turning all bankers into goblins. Then I retuned the _Daily Prophet _to Draco. It was actually lousy reading for a child. I considered sending Mr. Malfoy a list of book suggestions adequate for a boy in Draco's age.

History was even worse than I had expected. Professor Binns was not only a ghost, he was all over deadly boring with a voice so boring it didn't even put you to sleep. It was a real challenge to try and follow his ramblings and prying some information for it. His voice made your head feel as if it was slowly filled up with dust. The times in which Hogwarts had been founded might have been fun, bloody and dangerous, but he made you feel as if the ancestors would have considered being dead a very exciting change of things.

Actually, he managed to make the class feel as if being dead would a very exciting change of things, too. Only Hermione stayed alert and took copious note the whole time. I wondered if she was really taking them for this class, or if she was working on something for another class already. Or if she was writing something completely unrelated. It was how I wrote a lot of my stuff. I would have to ask her. The idea of FanfictionWriting!Hermione was amazing.

Charms was more interesting as we got to do magic now. The _Lumos_ charm was exactly what I had been looking for. Now reading under my blanket would not be a problem, except maybe a bit suffocating. I had to check if the beds had curtains, now that would be a solution. Meanwhile it was fun to see how much havoc a class of eleven-year-olds could wreak with a simple spell like that. I got the idea that it might be a sheer miracle the school was still standing.

Glowing wands were pointed in all directions, blinding other pupils or poking them. Even I managed to look directly into a successful _lumos_ of Draco. He was amazingly good with light considering he he was supposed to be a dark wizard. I considered the possibility of a _lumos_ creating black-light and how green his hair might turn in it. As a result, I scared half the class by casting a sickly green _lumos_ by accident. Suppressing a snicker I had to fight the urge to call Abracadabra

and scare everybody to death. The similarity to the death curse was uncanny and my inner linguist decided to go off and do research.

"Concentrate, Miss Snyder," Flitwick encouraged me. "You must focus on the spell, then you can do it."

I nodded, extinguishing the green light at the end of my wand. When I tried again, the light was satisfactorily white and bright enough. I beamed at the professor who seems close to exploding with pride and went to help Neville. The boy had potential. Of all pupils, only Neville had managed to actually set fire to his wand. Curious, I put my wand to Draco's hair to see if it would catch fire. It did not.

"Keep your wand to yourself," he hissed at me.

That was a very bad thing because with a sudden wand jokes flooded my mind. If I had known the melody to 'The Wizard's Staff Has A Knob At The End'* I would have started humming that just to keep my mouth busy. I was not sure how much innuendo would work with the others yet. But the time would come. I hoped.

I spent the rest of the lesson poking others with the glowing wand, getting poked back and half blinded and hissing polite insults. Especially Blaise was good at the latter, I really, really liked him. This was so much fun. And the green accident had given me ideas about modifications of teh spell that could be even more fun. I would need some more research on spells and charms before I tried anything, though.

Transfiguration put a damper on my magical enthusiasm. It was difficult. It was extremely difficult. And we only had to transfigure a match into a needle. Admittedly, neither could hold my attention for very long. My mind wavered between trying to imagine the needle, questioning the use of the exercise and wondering how it related to hats and jellyfish. Even with the help of the spell and the wand to focus my magic, nothing much happened. I was tempted to make a small hole into one end of the match and pretend I had at least managed to create the eye.

I spent lunch at the lake in the company off books and sandwiches. House elves are really convenient when you think about it. You say what you would like and _poof_, there it was. I even had a piece of cake for dessert. The view across the lake was beautiful and though I was sitting in the shadow of a huge tree the heat tempted me to just jump into the water. What were lakes for, if not swimming?

For the moment I contented myself with cold apple juice and books. _The Theory and Composition of Spells _was written more scientific than _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling . It was a convoluted accumulation of extraordinary long words. In the end it all boiled down to it is magic, it works magically. It was somewhat like the Force, being everywhere around and generally doing things, and you needed to focus it. For beginners using a wand was a perfect means of focus and the additional power stemming from its magical components strengthened the signal.

Uttering the words added another layer of concentration on the spell. The better you knew what you wanted to to and the more focussed you were, the better the spell worked out. Once you learnt how to focus you magic, wordless incantations were the logical result. Not to mention that those spared the author a lot of hard work inventing incantations for spells. I appreciated. And it meant that in the end it really _was_ headology, it all came down to how you used your head. I could live with that. Being magically strong did help, too. I would just have to be an optimist in that regard.

Herbology started off with theory as well. I secured a seat close to Millicent and pansy. I had to learn how to do girl stuff the wizarding way, too and they were my best shot at that. They did give me strange looks when I immediately tried to get as many pints as possible, but I had to. Theory was the only way to get through this subject for me. I had managed to let cacti die of thirst. Flaying would start only next week, and no explanations were given. Oh well, I could wait for that.

DADA with Quirrelmort stayed boring. I started memorizing spells and wondered how I could get away with doing homework instead of taking notes. Homework. I really had forgotten about homework. Staring bleakly at the amount of it piling up before me. Loads and loads of essays. At least I would finally learn how to write one now.

The Room of Requirement refused to show up whenever I went looking for it. Jumping across the stairwell got me disapproving glances from the portraits. Mostly, because some urged me on, probably in the hope I'd break my neck. I managed to escape Filch and Mrs. Norris, trying to come up with a viable plan to have an SW marathon in some kind of broom closet.

Did I mention astronomy? Weird idea. You have a lesson at midnight, trudge across the school grounds and yawn at each other vigorously. At least somebody had mercy and we had the first lesson on Thursdays off. Putting History before lunch was not such a good idea, though. We were tired and hungry and more than half asleep. Not that there was much to miss. I decided to do some self learning in the subject and find a way to doodle away time in the class. There had to be some spells for that. I would have to ask the Weasley twins about that.

And with a sudden it was Thursday evening. I had a load of homework already to last all weekend, no sign of my footnoterphone. The biography of Uric had been very entertaining and stopped rather suddenly when Uric supposedly died trying to prove that modern sciences opened up a whole new world of animagi. Even a thorough examination of all bacteria and viruses of the room he had last occupied came up dry. You had to admire the man's imagination.

After supper, I sat down opposite of Hermione. Ron gave ma a dark look, but I had actually done nothing to earn that. What Bumbly did was his problem. The rat usually visited me only when he wanted to be fed. He had allowed me to scratch him once, but it seemed my abilities in that respect were severely lacking. And he didn't get along well with Scabbers, which was no wonder, seeing how that was Pettigrew. I had given Bumbly express eave to do whatever he liked to Scabbers. Ron was unhappy about that.

Neither Bumblebee and Scabbers were around though, I hoped Bumbly was biting his tail off. "I finished the first book," I told Hermione. " Thought you might want to know."

"You're not really going through with this, are you?"Ron asked incredulous.

"I don't see why not," I shrugged.

He rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything else. That meant I could start a decent conversation with Hermione who had a very different view on a lot of things here. I tried to spy for information about her past, but she didn't let anything slip. Not even when I managed to drag Harry into the conversation. Three late muggles discussing the weirdness of the wizarding world. It was amazing to see how much they simply accepted as given.

"But it's not making any sense!" I kept saying. It was almost a catchphrase. And it was true so often. Why parchment and quills? Why no electricity? Why no phones? What would the wizarding world do to keep up with mobiles? The collection of household spells had a lot of useful ideas, like shrinking stuff for travelling, but it said nothing about communication.

Maybe because apparition was so common and you could firecall whenever you wanted? I imagined mobile fireplaces as an equivalent of mobile phone. The snigger earned me curious glances That I managed to deflect. But it was an idea I might try to dell to Fred and George one day. That reminded me of the project of this evening.

"This is for you, Harry." I gave him a piece of parchment.

He unfolded it, read and looked clueless. "What is it?"

"Help for tomorrow," I couldn't help grinning as I got up. "I get the feeling you might need it."

I left him still looking surprised and went to bed. Pulling the curtains closed I began to experiment with the lumos charm. I just hoped the curtains were tight enough, or I might have a lot of worried Slytherins. Though, maybe they just thought I was starting early. Green light spilled from the tip of my wand and refused to do as told. Bother.

* * *

* Song is property of Terry Pratchett


	5. Chapter 5: Your Heart's Desire

Chapter 5: Your Heart's Desire

Friday morning arrived with double Potions! I almost jumped out of bed, grinning like the Chesire Cat. I would have to ask Filch what he thought about a Mrs. Norris with evaporating skills, though I would have to insist on the grin. My duvets complied (mostly) with the bed-making skill I tried to learn from _Household Spells for the Tidy Witch_. They did not knot up impossibly and actually looked rather tidy. Go, me!

"Why are you doing that?" Millicent wanted to know. "The house elves will take care of it."

"Because I can." I waved my wand happily. Yes, I could do magic and it was fun. And I saw no reason not to do everything I could with magic. Millicent sniggered as I failed to catch the books I had summoned with an _accio_ and almost knocked myself over.

During breakfast I felt the bruise swell on my temple and considered trading the Quidditch book against one with basic healing spells. "Tell you about the magical accident, if I can sit next to you in Potions," I offered Draco, who kept glancing my forehead. I was weighing losing points for Slytherin against seeing a cauldron explode in his face.

"Not a chance, _nowhit_," he sneered.

I refrained from pinching his cheeks and grabbed the _Daily Prophet_ instead. There was the article about the break into the Gringotts. "What about this," I tried again. "Bet my seat next to you that Neville will explode his cauldron today."

"You aren't sitting next to me in Potions," Draco pointed out.

"Do."

"Don't."

"Do."

"Don't."

"Do."

"This is silly."

"Yes, it is. But that doesn't make my point less valid. And I just won." I grinned smugly.

Draco glared at me.

I pointed my fork at his face. "You need to work on that," I informed him. "I am not impressed." Then I turned my attention back to the paper and even laughed about the cartoon.

Draco was still sulking when I sat down next to him in class. He scowled when I winked at Harry, which tempted me to wave at Hermione, too, but just then Snape swept in his cloak snapping behind him dramatically. I approved.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," he told us as he went to his desk and turned to face the class. "As such," he went on completely ignoring the still open door, "I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few," he made a dramatic pause and glanced at Draco who positively basked in that, "who possess the predisposition. I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I show you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."

Draco's face light up with the ongoing list, while my head tried to tell me that I might just have heard the bewitching and ensnaring bit somewhere before. The way Snape folded his arms before him was distracting me though.

"Then again maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention." Snape went on, raising his voice at the end of the sentence.

From the corner of my eye I watched Harry taking notes dutifully, not even noticing as Snape approached. Crossing my fingers I hoped for a show.

"Mr. Potter, our new celebrity. Tell me what would I get if I added root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" he asked almost leaning against on of the pillars. Looked like I would get my show. Hermione's hand flew up too. She really seemed to have read up on this.

Harry looked up. He shot me a nervous glance, which even my encouraging wink did not seem to help much. He turned to face Snape and swallowed. "The Draught of the Living Dead, sir?" He offered tentatively.

Snape frowned, obviously not happy with the correct answer. Amazing. I bit my tongue, so I didn't snigger out loud.

"Well let's try again," he slowly made his way towards Harry's desk. "Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

I bit my lip, trying to focus on my hands after seeing the look Harry gave me. This was not exactly fair on him either.

"The ingredients cabinet, sir." He looked decidedly unhappy with the answer.

So did Snape to be honest. He took a split moment to glare at me, probably because I was shaking as I bit down on my laughter. Hermione looked half exasperated and half resigned. She even took her hand down and didn't try to raise it again when Snape went on.

"Trying to be funny, are we, Potter," Snape growled. "And what is the difference between monkswood and wolfsbane?"

Harry looked positively desperate now, but he did go through with this. Kudos to him. "Spelling," he got out not even trying to hide that he looked at me.

I chose that very moment to break out into laughter, hoping to draw most of Snape's anger in the process. I sure had his attention for the moment.

"Miss Snyder?" he almost hissed.

Taking advantage of a question that broadly asked, I took the liberty to answer it in a way that would hopefully save Harry even more trouble. "They are the same plant," I explained, still giggling. "So depending on what you call it the difference is - hopefully - the correct spelling." I gave him my best innocent eye-batting. Considering his scowl, I doubted it had worked. I wondered if I would be the first Slytherin in ages to earn detention in his class.

"Five points from Gryffindor for cheek," Snape announced and turned around. I waited for him to take points from Slytherin, too, but he didn't. Gah, what a git. He put us in pairs and made us brew something against boils. He did seem to hesitate for a moment though before pairing me up with Draco. Maybe I should not phrase it like that. It was giving me ideas Draco was ages to young for. Not to mention that so was I.

I grinned, and went to get the ingredients. It was a bit difficult to brew and watch Snape at the same time though. He really did his best to upset students, especially those from Gryffindor. I sighed into the crushed snake fangs, wondering at every step what would happen if you did something else. And we were not even stirring clock-wise or counter clock-wise.

Snape was just praising our potion as if I had nothing to do with it and it was all Draco's doing when Neville disappointed me extremely. Instead of exploding his cauldron, he had melted that of somebody else. The biting green smoke was impressive, as was the potion hissing through the stone floor, but well, I had betted on an explosion. I pulled my feet up and sat cross legged on the chair and watched the chaos with mild interest.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled and I didn't get the rest because he vanished the whole mess with a flick of his wand. I wanted to be able to do that. So I tried to remember the movement, noting only when Neville was taken to the hospital wing that it would do me no good without the incantation.

"Oh well," I sighed. "Looks like you're rid of me Malfoy."

Draco collected his things with a smug expression on his face. I just hoped I could convince Blaise to work with me, or one of the girls. Oh bother. I was so deep in thought that I almost jumped when Snape called for me.

"Miss Snyder." So much for getting away unnoticed. Seemed he only wanted to prevent an scene in public. Sneaky Snapey.

I nudged Draco on before turning to walk up to the teacher's desk. If Lucius had perfected the sneer, Snape had done the same to the scowl. He was wearing a perfect version of it now and I hoped that annoying him was not the only way to get to see it. "Yes, sir?"

"You will explain the incident at the beginning of the class now." He crossed his arm before his chest impressively glaring down his nose at me; quite a nose to glare down, too. In my mind I could hear a deluge of fangirls squeeing. Personally, I was doing my best not to drool over the voice. Alan Rickmann was simple auditory temptation.

"Of course, sir," I immediately said, wrecking my head for an explanation that explained just enough. "I knew you would give Harry trouble for taking notes today, so I gave him the answers to your questions yesterday at supper."

Snape's brows rose to his hairline.

"I thought just giving him the correct ones would not be enough fun, so I gave him the funny ones instead." I tried to look at my feet and project contriteness. I probably ruined the whole effect when I looked up wit a huge grin. "I must say the faces of all those involved were well worth it."

"Is that so." I'd call his tone a typical Snape drawl, bored, dripping with sarcasm.

I nodded. "I am afraid I have a ridiculously specific, if uncontrollable gift for Divination," I supplied happily. "Though sometimes, I'm afraid it can't keep past and future apart." I chewed my lip wondering if that explanation would cover everything I still remembered from the books. I hoped so.

"In which case you will not be surprised to have detention tonight."

"No, sir. Thank you, sir." I almost bounced which seemed to annoy him.

"With Mr. Filch."

I stopped in mid-bounce. "Sir," I told him in my best serious tone, "you really have to stop favouring the students of your House so much. Somebody will take notice." I flashed a grin at his perfect scowl.

"Are you trying to annoy me?"

"No, sir," I assured him immediately. "I'd say, you'd notice if I tried to annoy you, but you seem to be annoyed already and I am not even trying." I tried to catch that thought and turn it into something sensible, but failed. I shook my head. "What I am trying to say is, no, I am not trying to annoy you right now, sir."

He nodded a sharp dismissal and I bounced off. I even managed to catch the books when I accioed them and when I heard Snape snort, I held them high over my head and turned. "I can do magic, sir," I almost sang, twirling through the door.

.

Astronomy classes at the middle of day are deadly boring. Even more boring than watching stars, because there is always some time to point and poke the telescope at fellow students. It would surely not work with the dividers. I tried to calculate and draw constellations anyway.

Then I had lunch at the lakeside again wondering if the weather was good enough to warrant swimming at the weekend. Provided all that homework left me any time for that. After drawing some diagrams and writing boring essays I went back to testing the doors of the castle. Somewhere in there was my Room of Requirement. And in there was my footnoterphone, my contact to the real world. Or maybe to the Thursday Next world.

I pondered the question of what would happen if I crossed over from here to the Thursday Next series. Would they claim me to be just another character and stuff me back into some book or other? And what if they turned me into 'unnamed woman drowning in scene two' somewhere? I did not like that. Maybe I could get my own book. Oh, I should _so_ like to write my own book. Lot's of trial and tribulations and then even more boring happy bits. Because reading them might not be fun, but living them... I was so happy thinking about my Happy Ever After that I toppled when one of the doors actually gave in and opened.

It was not the room of requirement.

That was easy to find out because there was nothing really in the room. A few steps led down into a big empty room in the middle of which stood a mirror. I did not require a mirror. Except if in this fandom footnoterphones looked like mirrors. I took a few few steps into the room. The door banged shut behind me.

Very inconspicuous. So, big mirror, empty room - that should ring some kind of bell. I started to walk towards the steps. The only mirror I remembered from the novels was the one showing your dreams. My hand curled around the rail. Now that was - double edged. A host of ideas what it might show raced through my head. None of them very detailed, some of them also x-rated. I sat down to think this through.

For a long while I just sat on top of the stairs staring down at the huge mirror. From my vantage point I could not really look into it. I was still debating if I really wanted to. And I was wondering, who would not, what it would show. I was convinced to have some very good options, but had no idea how the mirror would display being loved or happiness. Hugging my legs, I put my head on my knees.

Maybe it would also show me back home. That might be my heart's desire while I was stuck here. Not that I missed home too badly so far. I trusted my crazy fangirls enough to get me back in time so nobody would notice. It was more like an annoying seven year holiday. And as yet, it was kinda fun. It was also possible that it was rigged. The idea made me sit up. This mirror was surely a deus ex machina if I had ever seen one What if I was supposed to use it to find out something about my persona in the story.

It was a sound enough idea to consider. I got up and slowly went down the stairs. It was also a very good excuse and cover for pure curiosity. My ability for self-deception went only so far. The mirror was huge and the ornate backwards writing curved over it nicely. I took the time to actually read it. I was procrastinating. Go, me.

Finally, I looked into the mirror itself. I was there, naturally, not looking very happy. No big wonder there either. And, well, there he was, as I had expected impossible to recognise. Wrapped up in black robes, his hood shadowed his face completely and from the way he held himself he probably had his face against my neck. In an abstract way I approved, also of his arms holding on to me tightly, one around my shoulders the other around my waist. It was just as well that I could not touch him because I was tempted to pull back his hood, grab his shoulders and shake him violently, shouting at him, demanding to know where he was.

Behind me stood a young wizard in what probably passed as decent and traditional wizarding robes. He looked slightly unhappy. Of course, I had never seen him before. He looked so young, younger than me, the real me I mean, with dark hair and a high brow. It might have looked good, but his brows seemed to droop.

Beside him stood a woman, straight as a broom, her mouth set in a determined smile. She looked extremely pureblood to my untrained eyes, but that might just have been my clichéd idea of pureblood wizards. Those that were not Weasleys that is. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a tight but elaborate hairdo, and she was blue-eyed, probably the only way to explain my eye colour considering the father. I had never seen her before either. Well, for all the gorram good that had done.

With a sigh I turned away. Maybe I could come back some other time and get more useful information from the mirror. I was half-way up the stairs when realisation hit me like a stone. I had to hold on to the stone handrail not to stumble and fall. When I had looked into the mirror, I had seen me. Not me as I was supposed to be, eleven years and all that, but _me_. Podgy woman in her mid-thirties.

I almost left the room in a run, mowing down some students on my sprint down into the dungeons. I didn't care if they even heard my hasty apologies. The dungeons were vast and I made a point of avoiding the Slytherin common room. The last people I wanted to see now where those I would have to spend the next seven years with. Actually, I didn't want to see anybody.

I found a nice niche to curl up in an laid my head on my knees. It was very easy and for a moment I relished in being so young again. Then the image from the mirror crashed into my thoughts again. Gah. I was not meant to be eleven. And I was not meant to be able to do magic. I let out a lumos which exploded in my face. If that was not proof enough!

The urge to get wasted grew. The chance of it becoming true did not. I also could not draw on my usual people to cheer me, the usual music or even images. Closing my eyes I tried to call on any of it. Some of the songs didn't even exist yet. Some of those people were barely born. This time sucked!

Happy song, happy song. I banged my head onto my knees. _Tomenaide, tomenaide _- not enough lyrics in that. And what does it mean anyway? At least the idea brought almost a smile to my face. If only I had more time in this life. But then, maybe I did? Nobody cold stop me from doing whatever I pleased. So what if I took the time to learn some languages? Would they be erased from my memory again? I hoped not. _Dare hitori hitori ja nai._...

"What," voice cut into my thoughts, "are you doing here?"

I looked up and saw Snape towering over me. Speak of the devil. "Moping," I told him.

He crossed his arms before his chest. "Is there any reason for it?" His tone indicated that there better not be because he could not be expected to be bothered with students' problems like that.

I sighed. "_Sumimasen_, Professor Snape. I will take care to mope in a better hidden place next time. Somewhere, you won't stumble over me."

"There is no such place in the dungeons," he told me, still scowling.

"Understood, sir," I nodded getting up. "Will mope in some high tower then."

"Don't fall off," was all the advice he offered.

"Of course not, sir," I had to grin. "Would not want to cause any unnecessary paper work to the head of my house." And I sped off, not waiting for a reply. Moping on hight towers was a new concept to me, but I was willing to try it.

.

At seven pm sharp I stood grinning and bouncing before Filch. "Reporting for duty, erm detention, sir." Instead of a salute, I added an extra bounce.

"Don't get first years often in the first week," he snarled, squinting down at me suspiciously.

I stopped bouncing and tried to look serious. "I managed to annoy Professor Snape enormously effectively," I confided. "Don't plan on doing that often."

"Annoying Snape, hrm," he seemed to be thinking, but my mind was in different dimensions anyway. The scrap of an unfinished, if funny ficlet sped through my mind that included, among other things, Snape and his using a spoon, but was immediately disturbed by another story along the same lines only about Yoda's Gimer stick. "I take commissions, too*," I told him brightly.

Filch squinted his other eye and went ahead grumbling. As I followed, the only thing I caught was thumbscrews. I considered the idea and could think of several ways those could be applied in a useful way without destroying the vital ability to write.

"In here."

I was half pushed into a room that looked as if it had been covered by green chewing gum. I poked it with a boot. Sticky green chewing gum.

Filch handed me a small brush and a bucket. "Clean that up."

"I looked from the brush to him and the room. "All of it?" There was no answer. "Can't the house elves -"

"Of course they could," he said with a nasty grin. "But this way is much better, don't you think?" He left chuckling to himself.

And I sat down and poked at the green stuff closest to me. I stuck to the brush. When I tired to clean the brush, it stuck to everything else. For a moment I sat there thinking. Then I pulled out my wand. I could do magic, right?

"_Gelide_!" I shout pointing my wand at a bit of green glob with conviction. A bolt of white light sprung from the wand in a way that made adult mind think - things. But the stuff froze obediently. I tried to scrape it off the floor but it was stuck firmly. "Crivens!"

Instead of Nac Mac Feegles I got a house elf. Not that I expected to get anything. I looked down at it for a moment. "Say, do you have a scraper you can borrow me?"

He looked around the room and vanished. Apparition. I would have to look into that, it was the next best thing to beaming. A second later I had a small scraper. I looked around but there was no house elf to be seen. Maybe they preferred to stay invisible. Maybe I would look into that, provided I ever got out of this again.

As long as it was frozen, the green goo cold be scraped off the floor and placed in the bucket which, for magical reasons never looked more than half full. Slowly I made a dent into the goo and managed to clean out a bit floor that you would have been able to lie down on, provided you were very careful and had your arms really, really close to your body.

It was the kind of boring work I only sought if I needed to clear my head and get my Muse into action. It is likely Snape didn't know that. It is also likely that Filch didn't know. My head did remember, though and my Muse strode up to my side in full armour starting to suggest things. I tried to poke him into the hollow of his knees, but being just a Muse, he was rather insubstantial.

"Oh shut up," I hissed and froze another bit of green. Of course he didn't. That's the problem of a completely armoured Muse, you cannot easily hurt him. Most ways to inflict pain would require a certain amount of undressing and you know what that leads to with Muses. Before I knew, I found myself listening to some very interesting theories to make this universe a better place. Writing fanfic was not really involved. Yet.

I scraped another piece of failed magic off the ground thinking hard. I didn't even hear when Filch turned up again. He looked at my progress suspiciously. But since I had just been scraping my wand was conveniently hidden from view.

"Your time is over," he told me sounding disappointed.

I got up and nodded gratefully. "Thank you, sir." I pocketed the scraper before he could see it. "I'm sure I'll be back some time," I couldn't help adding with a grin.

He looked after me, but I made a straight line for the library. Only to be told it was after my curfew and I had to be in my common room or dorm. Grumbling I went to the common room. Silence greeted me there. Obviously it was now common knowledge that a Slytherin had managed to get detention from Snape. Unheard of. An affront.

I plopped down beside Blaise. "So, what's the best rumour about it?"

He ignored me pointedly.

I looked around but the only people I might have gotten a word out of were Crabbe and Goyle (whose first names I still didn't know) and Draco was keeping them on a tight leash. I mentally kicked my Muse when he suggested Slytherslash. And because he didn't shut up and my imagination was inclined to do whatever it liked, I got up quite fast again and went to the dorm I shared.

Then I started to pile up spells on my Muse and its ideas with abandon. Though no spell is safe if you have an enamoured Muse shouting inside your head. The appeal of books on transfiguration became even stronger if one of the possible applications was threatening my Muse to turn him into Hayden Christiansen.

After some frantic memorising and making notes (one of which reminding me to ask Snape for brain bleach) I could finally go to sleep without the fear of dreaming.

.

I was woken by the sounds of three girls getting up. Doing a quick _tempus_, and not conjuring either barbarians nor their god in the process unfortunately, I realised it was already after nine and it was weekend. Yay. My first weekend on Hogwarts. I couldn't wait. I think.

But first there was normal business to take care of like getting ready and trying to eat breakfast with Bumbly jumping into my porridge and being generally annoying. Then I fed Uhu who deigned to blink at me for my efforts. I guess the owls were taken care of well. And then there was homework. I looked at the amount of work piling up before me.

"Is there no homework-spell?", I asked the general audience of the Slytherin common room.

"Ain't that the truth," Daphne sighed. "It would be so convenient. And this is just the first week."

I decided to do the essay for DADA and then head out for some fun. Or into the library for some Hermione. Or into the corridors for some searching for the Room of Requirement. Blech. But the essay took a short eternity to be written even it it read mostly 'blah, it's magic and dangerous, stay away, blah'.

After that it was potions and herbology. This school was surely essay crazy. I looked out longingly and then went to the library. Hermione was there researching her homework better than necessary. But I was not about to complain. I returned my copy of Merlin's biography. I got another biography to read for fun and settled down with a big volume about creating spells next to Hermione gancing over her essay.

"Trying to shirk some work?", she asked pointedly.

"Naw, already have that one finished," I said. "Just checking on all the fine details I was too lazy to look up."

She thought for a moment and then decided to take this as a compliment. "What do you want with that?" She indicated my book.

"Learn how to make my own spells," I grinned. "There are some things I'd really like to know how to do. Finding stuff, for example."

"Finding Spells, the Complete Compendium," Hermione replied. "It's in the general spells section."

I stared at her. This was incredible. "Amazing," I got out. Then I got up and hunted down the mentioned book. It really existed. I picked it up carefully. The biography would have to wait. "Thanks," I said sitting down again. "This is just what I was looking for."

"There are compendiums like that for all sorts of spells," she told me. "Finding things seemed a good place to start."

"Good thinking," I nodded. "You know them by heart already?"

"Only the most important ones," Hermione looked up from her essay. "Of course I took notes of ones that might be useful later."

For a while we sat in silence, the only noise being that of her quill scratching over the parchment. The compendium had a wonderful index and one sorted by subject and there were so many spells overall that I decided to settle down with it nicely and take my time to find the ones I wanted. Madam Pince gave me one of those looks again. First years were obviously to expected to read and certainly not books for grown ups. Well, sorry ma'am but I had a very grown up mind.

I grabbed some house elf prepared lunch and went down to the lake. I really started to like it here, not just because it was far from the castle and close to mischief. It was truly a beautiful place. I sat down and leaned against the tree. The book was interesting and I found myself taking copious notes. There were a lot of things you could lose and then had to find again in this world.

There was even a spell in case you lost your mind. I was tempted to try it immediately, but you needed to wear special twigs and flowers as a wreath on your head and it had to be said facing the sunrise. Maybe doing that simply proved you had really lost your mind and were willing to try anything.

After a while reading and taking notes became really boring. It was weekend and I was a kid. A magical one, too. There should be better things to do with my time. It was still very warm though the afternoon was already late and I was sitting in the shadow. The lake sparkled in blue and silver and looked very inviting indeed.

Glancing around I could not see anybody. But even if, so what? In retrospect I had to admit that I was not the most ugly of kids my age. Not that it was a help when I was eleven for the first time. It was the first time I consciously remembered going skinny dipping. It was also the first time ever I just jumped into a lake I knew nothing about. Okay, I did know there were Merpeople living in it.

I looked into the water suddenly doubtful. How would they react to uncovered humans in their lake? Maybe this was far from hygienic from their point of view. But none of them accosted me. I swam a little, being very happy with the youthful and agile body I once had. It even had stamina and I could swim around. Amazing.

Still, I tired after a while and paddling around in the shallow water held only so much excitement. I gave up and returned to my tree. Finding, not really surprising, the complete lack of towel. Good thinking. Maybe I should have learnt a drying spell. But it was too late for that now. I shook my hair and tried to swipe off the water from my skin with my hands. The effect was debatable. But it was still warm and I would dry off sooner or later. I returned to the finding spells until that came to pass. Magic might be helpful, but I would sure as hell get on without it, too.

After being dry again, I gathered up my things and decided to have a a go at the Room of Requirement. I wonder why I had thought retirement there for a second. That was only wishful thinking, and now further off that ever. Hell, I had not even _started_ to work. Putting the books down beside my bed, I dared a short foray into the guys dorm. No problem there. This was just too good. Now all I needed was - spells. Ah, there was so much to learn, even if you just wanted to be a nuisance.

It took a while to convince the stairs that I really wanted to go all the way up. And then there were closed doors again. Heaps, deluges, galores of closed doors. And some open ones. I really did like the tiny cabinet that consisted mostly of a windowsill and small round table. Making a mental note, and taking a long look out of the window, I moved on. And moved on. And moved on. And on. It was such a nuisance. And my shoulder became real sore.

And then - a door opened and I fell into a small stuffed room. In its middle stood an apparatus that looked like a reverse gramophone. Hallelujah! My footnoterphone had arrived! For a moment I wondered how to use it, but since it was my footnoterphone, that should be intuitive.² I stopped myself. No that was not right, if I said 'bunch of weird turkeys' Kayly would go looking for me in the Muppet Show. I frowned and tried again.³ Now that was better. Maybe I should add the kind of help I was hoping for?

I chewed my lips trying to get my priorities straight.²³ That should be enough for now. Or the story would look like something written by Pratchett, which was an unforgivable sin if you didn't write as well as him, and I was sure far, far away from that. Or worse, this might end up looking like "Zettel's Traum". Nobody would ever bother to look inside of it then.

With that over, I decided I had done enough for a weekend and deserved to study some mischief. Another stop at the library and a heated book-lending argument later, I headed back to the common room. It was deserted, but that was fine. Sprawling over one of those incredible green leather sofas, I began to read.

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* And I really do. PM or ask me in a review to get poor Snape annoyed in a way of your choice.

That's me *lol*  
.com/wiki/Unidentified_bespectacled_Slytherin_girl

² Help! Help! I am held prisoner -  
³ Some crazy people stuffed me into the HP series. Help me Kayly_Silverstorm; you are my only hope.  
²³ I have no idea at all what to do. What's generally going on? What's the worst fandom trope I could get hit with?


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